The Beginning of the End
by Casca
Summary: Spans the course of Harry’s final year at Hogwarts. A Harry & Ginny story. Epilogue posted! Completed.
1. The Attack on Privet Drive

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  We are not making any profit on these fics - just having fun. :) We will be forever grateful to Ms. Rowling for providing us with this veritable playground for our imaginations.

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter One

The Attack on Privet Drive

**_~Ron~_**

            Ron Weasley awoke on July 21st to complete chaos.  He could hear voices coming from downstairs, loud voices yelling with panic and anger.  He heard heavy footsteps thudding down the stairs, doors slamming, new voices shouting.  At once, Ron was yanking the covers off his bed and flinging himself downstairs.  The panic and fear gripped his entire body and seemed to squeeze his soul.  His brain was screaming the name "Harry" over and over again, a feeling culminating the intense fear he'd felt all summer long whenever he thought of his best friend's safety.

            The sight that greeted Ron was one of pandemonium.  Bill was charging through the house, a look of fury on his hard face, swearing loudly; Mrs. Weasley was bent low, talking to someone's head in the fireplace; Mr. Weasley was running from the other end of the house to join a guest in the hall who Ron noticed was Remus Lupin.  Everyone seemed to be in a complete panic.

            "What's happened?!" he shrieked over everyone.  "What is it?!"

            Mr. Weasley took a step towards Ron, but didn't say anything.  When he shifted, however, Ron could see whom Mrs. Weasley was talking to in the fireplace.  It was Sirius Black.

            Ron watched his parents exchange looks and he felt his heart drop into his stomach.  It seemed that everyone had stopped talking.  "WHAT IS IT?!" Ron bellowed.

            Lupin clamped a hand on Arthur's back and looked at him expectantly.  Arthur turned to look at his wife.  "Molly, I have to go."

            "Go," she breathed.  "Go, take care of it, Arthur, Remus, Sirius. When you find him, bring him back here where he belongs."

            "I'm coming, Dad!" Bill yelled, charging through the kitchen into the living room.

            Mrs. Weasley looked panicked. "No, I don't think you should, Bill-" But she stopped at the look of determination on Bill's face.  "Be careful, all of you," she said miserably.

            Ron watched numbly as his father, his brother and Lupin Disaparated on the spot and Sirius's head disappeared in a swish of gold sparks. Ron turned to his mother and looked at her with pleading eyes.  "Mum?"  

            At that moment, the back door slammed and Fred, George and Ginny came into view. George and Fred had broomsticks slung over their backs and Fred carried a Beaters Club. 

"Oi!" shouted Fred.  "I'm beat. What's for breakfast, then?"  

Ginny stood perfectly still, staring back and forth from her mother to Ron.  "Mum?" she asked in a small voice.  

The twins looked up, suddenly sober.  "What's happened?" demanded George in a harsh voice.

The war made it quite common for happiness in the house to diminish into fear within a split second.  

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath.  "Okay, nobody knows anything yet, so try not to panic."  She turned to look at Ron.  "Privet Drive, the muggle street Harry lives on, was under attack today."

Ron's stomach lurched.  "Harry?"

"Nobody knows anything, Ron. Remus Lupin found out in the muggle news early this morning."

"Well, what did the muggle news say?" George demanded.  "Was anyone hurt?"    

Mrs. Weasley looked at each of her children.  "There were fifteen deaths, about thirty people injured."

At that, Ginny's eyes welled with tears.  Ron looked positively nauseous, and Mrs. Weasley spoke again.  "But that doesn't mean that Harry-"

"Of course, it does!" Ron shouted.  "What do you think it means?"

"Ron, stop it," his mother said sharply.  "We can't go assuming things that may not have happened-"

            "They don't have the identities of who was killed, Mum?" Fred asked.

            Mrs. Weasley hesitated.  "Apparently, some of the victims were not able to be identified," she said evasively.

            But Ron stared at her.  "Well, why not?"

            She sighed.  "There was a lot of destruction to the houses of the street and some of the deaths were not caused by curses.  At least, this is what Remus Lupin could put together from the muggle news.  The Aurors are over there now, have been all morning. Ron, and Dad, Sirius and Remus are going to search for Harry so I suggest we all wait until we have any more news before thinking the worst."

            But Ron didn't want to wait.  It wasn't fair, why did he have to sit and wait to find out if his best friend had . . . He couldn't do it.  He couldn't sit, he couldn't wait, so he got up and slammed from the house.

**_~Hermione~_**

            Hermione awoke on July 21st, dressed in casual clothes and headed into the kitchen to fix some breakfast.  She was used to getting up on her own and fending for herself. After all, her parents kept dentist's hours and usually had to be at their respective practices rather early in the morning.  She pressed the lever down on the toaster and poured a tall glass of juice, flipping on the small counter-top television to watch the eight am news.  It had become a kind of second nature to do this on summer break.  

            Just then, she heard a tapping noise coming from the kitchen window and, glancing up, she ran to open it.  A great tawny owl swept through the open window and dropped a large newspaper, made not of paper but of parchment, onto the table.  The owl held out his leg, which was attached to a small pouch and Hermione scrambled around to find the proper wizard coinage to pay him.  

            Hermione barely had time to glance at The Daily Prophet lying on the table before the toast popped up.  She stretched to press the lever back down, her eyes doing a double take at what she saw on the cover of the Prophet.  It was a picture of Harry, one that had been taken three years ago as a publicity shot for the Triwizard Tournament.  Hermione's heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she snatched up the paper and frantically scanned the article.

            The Dark Lord strikes again and this time he has chosen to go after the one and only person who has ever defeated him- Harry Potter.  Harry Potter has been proclaimed one the safest wizards in the world with the avid protections placed upon him and his residence by none other than Albus Dumbledore. However early this morning, it appears young Potter's safety wore short.  The muggle street on which Mr. Potter takes residence over the summers was taken under violent attack, culminating in the deaths of several muggles.  Mr. Potter was nowhere to be found at the scene and since there have been no confirmation of the identities of the victims, it may be assumed that our young Potter has been a victim as well…  

            Hermione threw down the paper as if it had burned her hands.  _No such thing could be assumed,_ she thought wildly.  _How dare they print something so misleading?_  Harry knew how to take care of himself; he was a wonderful wizard, he would know if something were about to happen.  She was sure that he was absolutely fine, she would almost swear it.  Her hands shook as she buttered her bread and she tried very hard to swallow the tears that welled up in her throat.  Harry was fine, she would not assume anything until she heard the truth from someone she trusted.  She knew that she would see Hedwig or Pig flying down her street any minute now with news on exactly what had happened and where Harry was.  And if Harry were indeed in danger, Ron would not keep her in the dark; he would get word to her strait away.  Hermione knew it and she refused to believe anything until she heard the truth.  Hermione grabbed the plate, turned to walk to the table and froze.  She stared in horror at the smartly dressed reporter speaking into a microphone on the television.  The woman appeared to be standing on what looked like a battlefield where ruined houses, black ash, and billows of smoke was the backdrop.

_            **"The Fire started at around five am this morning and the source is still unknown.  Since the flames shot down the street and destroyed many houses on Privet Drive in Surrey, it may be assumed that the fire was caused by a gas leak, which went out of control.  However, our own Peter Glen commented that if the cause was indeed a gas leak, he certainly had never seen the likes of one this big and this destructive.  Peter, are you there…?"**_

            The plate slid from Hermione's hands and fell to the floor with a clatter.  She sat down in a kitchen chair, put her head in her hands and prepared to wait.

~Harry~ 

Harry Potter, Heir of Gryffindor, sat in a large, cushioned chair staring blankly at the roaring red flames inside the small fireplace.  He closed his eyes against the fatigue and found it helped slightly, and made him so drowsy, he could imagine sliding off to sleep within seconds.  But Harry didn't want to go to sleep so he opened his eyes again and when he did, he found himself looking at the towering figure of Albus Dumbledore.  Harry didn't make a move, he simply stared up into the eyes of the person who had saved his life only hours ago. He watched Dumbledore walk to the corner of the room, pull a chair and sit down across from Harry at the small circular table within the room.  

            "Your aunt, uncle and cousin are fine, Harry.  Your aunt was injured and taken to a hospital but it's not serious.  The house was destroyed.  I'm sorry," Dumbledore said.

            If Harry had to explain the feelings that raced through him, he wouldn't be able to.  He felt relieved to a point, but wondered what he was relieved of.  He didn't care about the Dursely's, they meant nothing to him. Or didn't they? As for the house, well, it had been his enslavement for the last seventeen years.  But he couldn't ignore the fact that something inside him was aching for it.  Harry remembered the bedroom Ron, Fred and George had rescued him from in the dead of night, the countless owls with letters and birthday presents he'd opened on his bed, the living room where he'd stood while hundreds of letters poured through the fireplace, addressed to him.  He hated most everything about that house from Aunt Petunia's spotless windows to the freshly painted garage door.  But it had been home and now he had no other. 

Dumbledore continued to speak about the Dursleys.  "Their memories have been modified, they think the damage was caused by a fire, they don't suspect you at all."

At that, Harry gave a dry laugh.  

Dumbledore shifted his gaze to Harry's eyes.  "You can see them, if you like.  They are at the hospital just outside of-"  Dumbledore broke off as Harry shook his head.  "Very well.  Harry, I'm going to check downstairs and see if Sirius has arrived.  Would you like anything?"

Harry shook his head again.  

Dumbledore walked to the door and opened it, turning when Harry spoke.

"Thank you, Professor," he said in a low voice and Dumbledore nodded deeply. Harry could see that the meaning behind the words was not lost on him.  Alone, Harry stared into the fireplace that sparked calmly and closed his eyes.  The morning came back to him . . . 

_Harry slept very fitfully, dreams haunting his slumber.  At once he awoke to an earsplitting scream and scrambled out of bed before cursing himself mentally.  There was no one there, as always, no Voldemort peeking out from under his bed or hiding in the closet.  It was, as it always was, just a dream.  _

_His watch read five am, it was still dark out, just before the sun made its ascent. Harry lay in bed, tossing and turning restlessly.  He spent most nights this way so he was quite used to not being able to sleep.  But he couldn't help feeling that something else was keeping him awake.  Something-_

_At once, Harry heard a loud noise from outside, he sat up and looked and what he saw made his heart stop.  A huge fiery bird was flying strait for his window.  Harry watched in fear as the creature swooped inside his room and landed on his bed.  He gasped. _

_"Fawkes!" he breathed.  _

_Fawkes the Phoenix flapped his massive wings and Harry looked frantically around.  "What it is, Fawkes, what's happened?" he asked, as if expecting the Phoenix to start talking to him.  But Fawkes simply held out a claw-like foot and Harry saw that there was a letter attached to it.  _

_Opening up the letter furiously, Harry scanned it, surprised by it's short contents.  The letter simply said:_

**_Harry,_**

Take what you can carry and leave Privet Drive at once. Fawkes will guide you. Stay hidden, be quick.  We'll do our best to keep you're family safe.

**Albus Dumbledore**

            _Harry was breathing very fast.  He folded the letter with shaking hands and opened his trunk.  He grabbed the only two things that mattered most: the invisibility cloak to keep hidden and his Firebolt, his only form of transportation.  Fawkes was perched on the windowsill, calmly waiting for Harry.  Invisible, Harry raced downstairs, opened the front door and took off into the night, following closely behind Fawkes._

_            For hours, they flew towards London and at last, Harry had arrived in front of The Leaky Cauldron where Dumbledore sat awaiting him.  But Harry didn't need to hear explanations.  He already knew in his heart what had happened.  He listened numbly as Dumbledore told him that he'd received word that the Death-Eaters had planned to attack Privet Drive.  Harry didn't ask how Dumbledore had found out about this. . . Harry already knew who had helped save his life.   _

It was quite a few hours before Sirius arrived at The Leaky Cauldron where Dumbledore had arranged for Harry stay in a room.  Sirius walked into the room followed by Mr. Weasley, Bill Weasley and Professor Lupin. Harry and Dumbledore were sitting in silence around the table, Harry staring into the fire again and Dumbledore reading the Daily Prophet.  

            "Harry," Sirius said.  He stood at the doorway and his whole appearance exuded relief.  "Thank goodness."

            Harry stood as Sirius approached him.  "I'm fine," he told him, meeting his gaze.  Harry had grown quite tall in the last few years, almost, but not quite, reaching Sirius' height.    

            Sirius placed both hands on either side of Harry's neck, looking at him intently.  At last, Sirius nodded.  

            Lupin cleared his throat and when Harry turned to look at him, he saw Lupin and Bill were floating something inside.  It was Harry's trunk.

            "We were able to salvage this from your house, Harry.  It all seems to be order," Lupin said kindly.

            "Thank you,"  Harry said, surprisingly relieved.  He didn't have much in the way of fortune in the trunk, but there were many things of value to him in there and it had caused him much pain to leave his only belongings behind.

            Mr. Weasley turned to Harry.  "Harry, I just sent word to Ron, and let him know you're okay. They're waiting for you at home."

            Harry felt a surge of relief so strong, he closed his eyes.  He noticed Mr. Weasley had said "home" and not "the Burrow" and Harry knew he'd done it on purpose.  The Burrow had been like a second home to him since his second year at Hogwarts and he knew the door would always be open for him there. However…

Harry did not answer Mr. Weasley and instead, looked at Dumbledore. "Will he find me there?"

            "The Burrow will be Unplottable after tonight, Harry.  You won't be found there," Dumbledore assured him.

            Harry held his headmaster's gaze and felt Dumbledore willing him to believe it.  

It was Mr. Weasley who stepped forward and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "Let's go, Harry.  Ron's waiting for you, he's sent Pig to Hermione to let her know you're okay.  You'll be able to have a rest at home."

Harry closed his eyes again at the word "home" and turned to follow Mr. Weasley and Bill out of the room.  A sudden noise made him turn back.  Harry's heart soared.  "Hedwig!" he exclaimed and watched as Lupin let her in through the window.  She'd been gone for almost a week and Harry had been worrying.

"Hang on a second, Mr. Weasley," Harry said and bent over the table, grabbed a pad and pencil and quickly scrawled a note.  He attached the note to Hedwig's leg and then stroked her snowy feathers gently.  "Take this to Hermione for me, okay?  Be really quick."

Hedwig hooted softly and nipped his finger.  Then she took off outside.

"It'll take Pig forever and a day," he said giving a dry laugh. "She'll be worried," he said simply, referring to Hermione.  Then Harry followed Mr. Weasley out of the room and prepared to go home.  

**_~Ginny~_**

            Around mid-afternoon that day, Ginny Weasley came inside the Burrow through the kitchen door, her arms full of flowers.  She laid them on the table and reached up into a cupboard to get a plain white vase. At once, she started sheering the ends of the long blossoms with her wand, finding it enjoyable using magic at home.  Since the war had begun, fifth, sixth and seventh year students were aloud special privileges to practice magic at home.  The slow and monotonous task allowed her to think calmly about the events that had transpired early this morning.  

Things were settled now. Dad was at the office, Mum had gone to buy groceries, and Ron, Fred and George were outside using Quidditch to settle down. And Harry was upstairs sleeping in Ron's room. He'd been asleep for almost an hour and Ginny was glad for it.  When he'd arrived at the Burrow a short while ago, he'd looked as if he'd been through an emotional war and Ginny knew all too well that he'd had.  Mum had gone to him immediately and hugged him as though he were her own son. Ron had clapped him on the back with a huge look of relief and happiness on his face. Fred and George had made a lighthearted joke and broken the tension.  But Ginny had taken a step back and left the room before Harry could see her.    

It was a very tough thing to deal with, watching Harry go through so much.  Ginny wanted to be there for him, to comfort him with a hug or even a joke.  But it wasn't her place.  Over the years, she had somewhat come to deal with the fact that he didn't see her at all and had actually managed to forget about it every now and then.  But when something like this morning happened, her feelings for Harry would come flooding back and Ginny knew there wasn't anything she could do to suppress them.  So she'd left the room and went outside to pick flowers.

He just didn't see her.  And that was fact.

Satisfied with the rather large bouquet she'd created, Ginny picked up her wand and peered at one of the flowers, which had started to wilt.  She muttered something softly and touched her wand to the stem of the flower.  At once the blossom filled with intense color and opened up.  She did this to three other wilted flowers and then, satisfied, pushed the vase into the center of the table.  The absence of the arrangement made her view to the doorway clear and she glanced up at the person standing in it.

Harry took a step inside the kitchen and Ginny's heart thudded in her chest.  His black hair was mussed from sleep, his clothes were wrinkled and he was looking directly at her.  His piercing green eyes had that same flat look that had gotten worse over the last three years.  It was almost to a point where Ginny could see the windows closed over them.

He gave her a small smile and her heart almost broke.  "Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said in a surprisingly clear voice.  "Did you have a good sleep?"  She watched him shrug his shoulders and pull out a chair at the kitchen table to sit down.

Ginny went to a cupboard.  "Something to drink?" she asked him and pulled out a pitcher of pumpkin juice.  

When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him.  He was watching her in the most peculiar way.  Ginny didn't know why, but the cautious look on his face made a huge giggle bubble in her throat.  "What?" she asked with amusement.  "Do I have leaves in my hair or something from the bouquet?" She lifted her free hand to her hair that was pulled back in a simple ponytail.  

He rewarded Ginny with a tiny hint of a grin.  "No, no.  You sound different, that's all."

            "Oh."  Ginny stood in the middle of the kitchen, the pitcher of pumpkin juice still in her hand.  She turned abruptly after a moment and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard.

            "Thanks," Harry muttered after she'd handed him the glass.  He downed it in almost three gulps.

            They sat in silence for a while, with Harry refilling his glass once and Ginny pulling a magazine from a shelf and flipping through it.  She knew he didn't want to talk, so she forced herself to appear comfortable in his presence, which would make him feel comfortable that they weren't talking.  It appeared to be working until Ginny caught Harry looking at her again.  This might have been great news to her because Harry never looked at her, _really_ looked like he was doing so now.  However this was not the look she'd always dreamed of.  He didn't have a foolish grin on his face or appreciative eyes.  He was looking at her face very thoroughly and … he was frowning at her.  For a split second, Ginny's eyes flew back to his and met his gaze.  But Harry broke the connection immediately. Gone was the comfortable stillness.  They sat in silence again, however the air was thick with a tension neither of them understood. Ginny returned to her magazine, Harry returned to contemplating his juice.  But it was she who raised her eyes ever so slightly to look at him once again.  

To Be Continued…

Feedback is welcome!

Casccara@yahoo.com

More Harry Potter Fanfic by Casca at: 

_The Hidden Tower_

http://hiddentower.50megs.com

And ER Fanfic by Casca at:

_Between the Lines _

http://agentsndoctors.50megs.com 


	2. The Greatest Weasley Prank

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  We are not making any profit on these fics - just having fun. :) We will be forever grateful to Ms. Rowling for providing us with this veritable playground for our imaginations.

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Two

The Greatest Weasley Prank**__**

            On the day before Harry's birthday, Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen, her face beaming at Harry.  "I know what today is," she sing-songed.

            Harry and Ron glanced at one another over their game of Exploding Snap.  Both heads turned simultaneously towards Mrs. Weasley who threw a happy smile over her shoulder at Harry.  "Someone's turning seventeen!" she sang.

Ron rolled his eyes.  "You've got the wrong day, Mum.  Harry's birthday is tomorrow."

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a look of her own.  "Well, I know that, silly.  But today is the day _before_ his birthday!  And you know what _that_ means?"

Harry and Ron exchanged another quizzical glance. "What, then?" Ron demanded.

"It's preparation day!  Harry, we'll need to sit down and talk about exactly how you want to spend your day, what you'd like to have for dinner, what kind of cake, who you'd like to invite, that sort of thing."

Harry sat up, suddenly uncomfortable.  "Mrs. Weasley, you don't have to do any of that, really-"

But she cut him off.  "Nonsense, dear.  I think we all could use a little party, and if you think we let birthdays go unnoticed around here, you're mistaken.  Now what's your favorite kind of cake?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who was grinning at him.  Then Harry shrugged helplessly, a grin of own tugging at the corner of his mouth.  "I dunno," he said thoughtfully.  "I liked that chocolate one you sent me last year."

Mrs. Weasley sat down at the table with a piece of parchment and a quill.  She pushed aside the pile of Exploding Snap, pointed her wand at the deck, muttering _"finite incantatem!"_ and grabbed the quill to start making columns on the parchment.  Harry and Ron looked somewhat wistfully at the deck of cards, which, at Mrs. Weasley's spell, had stopped ticking dangerously, and let out a long, low whistle.  This meant the cards would not explode until a new game was dealt.

Harry sat through half an hour of Mrs. Weasley's party planning, trying to think of all his favorite foods and deserts, his favorite games and whom he wanted to invite.  Well, there was Hermione, of course, but there was no way she could make it since the Burrow had become Unplottable.  Floo Powder no longer worked inside the confines of the Burrow and the drive was too far for Hermione to come for just one visit.  Harry mentioned Sirius, then remembered the owl he'd received from him saying how busy he was, going all over the country with Lupin to help Mad Eye Moody and the rest of the Aurors. There was really no one else he would like to come, so he told Mrs. Weasley that they didn't need to invite anybody else.

It was the first time he'd ever spent his birthday outside of Privet Drive.  It was difficult for Harry to be happy that he didn't have to spend his birthday alone in the bedroom inside Number Four.  He always pictured his first "real" birthday happening in some house he would share with Sirius.  Sirius would throw him a party and Harry would get to invite all his friends over to his own house.  It would be after the war was over, after Voldemort had gone far away and they could all breath easily and not fear anything.  He hadn't planned on this.  He hadn't earned this. It had taken something being destroyed to allow Harry a happy birthday away from the family he hated and with the people he loved.  

However, when the party day arrived, Harry found that it was quite easy not to think about the Dursley's and Privet Drive.  The Weasley's were great at making him forget his grief and just enjoy being one of the family.  They all sat around the kitchen table: Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, Ron and Ginny (Mr. Weasley was working, Charlie was stuck in Romania).  After a glorious dinner filled with all the favorite foods Harry could think of telling Mrs. Weasley, Harry was treated to the biggest and most glorious looking cake he'd ever seen. While everyone sat around the outdoor picnic table, now stuffing themselves with cake, Harry enjoyed listening to funny stories about Weasley birthdays past.

Laughter rang out as George told of Ron's sixth birthday.  The twins had apparently tricked Ron into climbing a Weeping Willow tree, telling him all of his presents were hidden up there.  When he couldn't get down, they'd left him out there while everyone searched the house and yard for Ron.  After a few hours, Mrs. Weasley had managed to brow beat where Ron was out of Fred.  When they all went out there, they peered up into the tree and saw that Ron had fallen fast asleep on the mossy branches of the willow.  

"Smug little prats, aren't you?" Bill said with his mouth full of cake, looking at the twins.  "I think we all remember _your_ tenth birthdays?" 

Two identical smiles disappeared.  "Say it and die," Fred warned seriously.

"I'd like to hear it," Ginny spoke up.

"So would I," Harry chimed in with a grin.

Bill sat up and rolled his sleeves as if preparing to do a comedy routine.  "It's really thanks to my young sister here, that we have this great story to tell."

Ginny rolled her eyes and grinned.

 "A mere seven years old she was when she set off the greatest prank known to the Weasley family history to this day," said Bill with a grin.

"Aye," said Ron, winking at Ginny.  

Bill continued.  "A very clever young witch, my baby sister, even if her temper does get the better of her at times.  This was one of those times when her temper and cleverness came in very handy.  The story starts on the tenth birthdays of Fred and George Weasley, August 24th.  These two young lads awoke early in the morning to start their trouble-making a bit earlier than usual and when they found Ginny awake, they saw ample opportunity."

"What did you do?" Harry asked Fred and George with a grin.

George gave in and shrugged.  "We tied her up and locked her in the attic," he said as if it were obvious.

"And Ginny was up there for three whole hours, all tied up, my pour baby sister," Bill said, patting her on top of her head.  Ginny slapped his hand away as Bill continued.  "It was torture, being up there with crazy Berstein."

Harry remembered Berstein as the ghoul who occupied the Weasley attic.

"Berstein's not mean or anything," Bill said to Harry.  "He's just a loud, cranky prat with nothing better to do than bang on pipes and burst into tears.  Anyways, deciding that Ginny had had enough, George and Fred went up to the attic to untie her.  Only . . . when they got up there, Ginny was gone, nowhere to be found.  They searched everywhere for her, high and low.  But no Ginny.  And nobody else, either.  For the house remained strangely deserted hour after hour after hour.  Thinking that they were going quite mad, George and Fred continued to look now in the living room.  And suddenly from out of nowhere, paper's started flying everywhere, books soured through the air and hit them on their bumpy heads" –everyone roared with laughter- "lanterns turned on and off, drawers opened and closed, all on their own accord.  Fred and George, now thinking that the house was haunted with some poltergeist who was up to no good, fled from it, screaming on top of their lungs.  Mum, who had Aparated just outside the Burrow, her arms filled with groceries, met them.  They told her everything, screaming frantically.  Mum threw the groceries down, glass jars breaking, and ran inside the house.  However, the site that met her was not the one that Fred and George had described.  There was young Ginny sitting on the couch drawing pictures.  The house was spotless just as Mum had left it."

After the laughing had died down, Harry founding himself asking, "What . . .?"

"Go on, Ginny," Ron grinned.  "Tell us how you did it."

Smiling smugly, Ginny licked the icing off her fork and Harry was startled again by how adult Ginny looked.  "It wasn't all _that _great."

"Yes, it was," Bill said proudly. "And you know it. Go on with you."

Ginny sighed dramatically.  "Well, okay.  It was all Berstein.  I convinced him to untie me by promising him a trip downstairs." She turned to Harry.  "He never gets to go downstairs," she explained and then continued.  "Anyway, he helped me loose and we got to talking-"

"He actually became quite fond of Ginny," Ron interjected.  

"I remind him of his granddaughter who was died in 1478 when she was only ten," Ginny said.  "Anyway, we came up with the plan together. I would give him a signal from the stairs and he was to torture them.  And he did," she said.  "That's it."

"How did you get everyone out of the house, again?" George asked grudgingly.  

"Oh, that was easy.  I said I was going to play my Crabby Babby, the Singing Frog music.  Bill, Charlie and Ron ran out of the house as quickly as they could." 

"So Mum forced Fred and George to walk into town to replace the grocery's they caused her to drop and they got no birthday cake for lying.  And Ginny became the only one who can shut up that old prat," Ron said, pointing to the attic.  

"Yeah, how do you do that?" Bill said suddenly irritated.  "He was crying so loud last night, I swear he was playing the musical saw."

Ginny shrugged.  "I just ask him. But don't try it," she warned.  "He says that anyone who asks him except me will get their ears blown off.  He doesn't like you lot, he thinks you're mean to me."  At that she smiled happily, leaned back in her chair and continued eating her cake.

"Are you ever going to correct him?" Ron demanded.

Ginny just shrugged, and took a huge bite of cake. 

Later that night, as the stars came out they still sat in their seats at the picnic table, talking and laughing, although their conversations had taken a more lazy tone.  

Mrs. Weasley brought out Harry's birthday presents and Harry took his time opening the rather large pile. Hermione had sent him (what else?) a book, but Harry's eyes widened when he saw the title: Bewitching Brooms; A Reference to Every Known Spell on Broom Bewitching and Enchanting. "Cool," he muttered, flipping through. He paused to watch a picture that depicted the careful placement of a _Loopellai _charm, which gives the broom the ability to take the rider on a roller coaster ride.  He opened a wooden picture frame from Hagrid along with the gamekeeper's famous rock cakes (he and Ron rolled their eyes at each other).  Ron himself had given Harry a large assortment of candy along with a Chudley Cannon's hat ("It's about time you had one for yourself"). Fred and George gave him some great new tricks they'd invented for WWW, including (but not limited to) a large supply of Peacock Tarts, (their newer version of Canary Creams) and three packs of WWW Imploding Bubble Gum, for professional use only.  The pile of gifts diminished at last and Harry thanked everyone as Mrs. Weasley went inside to clean up and wait for her husband to come home.

The night had arrived with a soft breeze and Harry leaned back and enjoyed being where he was.  The guilt hadn't surfaced all evening and he was glad of it.  It had been nice to spend his birthday not worrying, not wishing he were somewhere else.  The day had been very pleasant and he reminded himself to thank Mrs. Weasley again tomorrow morning.  

"Hey, George, I think it's high time we paid our little sister back for that foolish prank she played on us years ago," Fred said from out of the blue.

Harry saw Ginny sit up suddenly from her lazy position on her chair.

"You know, Fred, you're right.  We do have a reputation to uphold."

"That we do."

They were out of their seats in a split second, but Ginny had been quicker. Harry watched with a choked laugh as Ginny sprinted towards the house, flung open the back door and rushed inside, the twins at her heels.  She returned a few seconds later, running from around the front of the house, (they must have chased her out the front door) laughing the whole time.  Harry winced as Fred caught up to her and tackled her onto the ground.  

"Fred!" she shrieked.  "Stop, no, THAT TICKLES!"

"You hold her down, Fred, we can all take our turns tickling her!"  George laughed maniacally and Ginny rolled helplessly on the ground, laughing so hard, she could barely breath.

"Stop . . . I'm . . . telling . . . Mum . . ." Then with a sudden spurt of strength, she flipped Fred over and sat on him, pulling hard on George's ankle.  He lost his balance and toppled over.

Harry laughed loudly along with Ron and Bill.

"I guess she got you again, you prats," Bill called out.

"Never!" Fred shouted as he rolled over, but Ginny was quick, Harry noted. She ducked under Fred's arm and crawled away.

She managed to get up and scramble over to the table, sitting down next to Bill and clinging to his arm.  Her face was still charged with laughter.

When the twins walked over, Bill held up a hand to tell them to quit it and Ginny snuggled to her big brother.  "My hero," she sighed.  

Harry was kind of shocked at the display- not Fred and George tackling Ginny, but the affection between Bill and Ginny.  At once, he got the idea that Ginny shared something a tiny bit more special with Bill than with any of her other brothers.  The jealousy he felt surprised him- he hadn't felt that way about the Weasley's in a long time.  But Harry thought it must be nice to have a favorite brother; he didn't have any brothers at all.

It was around one in the morning when everyone finally got up and decided to go to bed.  They took their time going up the stairs, laughing at all the jokes and stories they'd told and shook their heads at Fred's and George's promise to get Ginny back for her old prank before the summer was over.  Fred and George disappeared into their own room along with Bill, leaving Harry, Ron and Ginny climbing.  When Ginny reached her door, she turned to them.  "G'night. Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks," he said.  "And thanks again for the gift."

She smiled.  "Your welcome. 'Night," she said to both of them and closed the door of her room behind her.

Ginny's gift had been surprisingly great.  The only thing that had been missing from his trunk that Bill and Lupin had salvaged was his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, and Harry had remembered that he'd been reading it the night before Fawkes had come.  He had reasoned that it must have been in his bed or on the floor of his room when Number Four had been attacked.  Ginny had bought him another copy of it—a hardbound cover second edition containing a whole new chapter with a history of unusual Snitch catching, including information on The World Cup Harry himself had attended a few years back.

When Harry fell into bed, (a soft mattress next to Ron's bed) he could hear Ron's snoring almost immediately.  He closed his eyes and thought that it had in fact been the best birthday of his life.  The thought didn't guilt or worry him; it simply put him into a deep slumber.

However, not two hours after his head had hit the pillow, Harry was sitting up in bed.  A loud scream had pierced his sleep, a scream he'd heard over and over again in the voice belonging to his mother.  Harry saw Ron sit up in bed with a start and realized that he must have screamed out loud. "Sorry," he began to pant, embarrassment creeping up on him.  But he was cut off by another ear-splitting scream.  It seemed to rattle the house and sent something like ice coursing through Harry's body.  Harry knew instantly that he hadn't heard his mother scream before.

"Ginny," Ron said, scrambling out of bed.  

Harry groped for his wand and they stumbled into the hall where they found Mrs. Weasley running down the stairs and into Ginny's room. He saw Bill and the twins emerge from their room, each clutching their wands, their eyes wide with fear.

"She's fine," they heard Mr. Weasley call out from Ginny's room.  He must have been the first to rush in there.  "She's okay."

Harry heard a collective sigh of relief and realized he'd been a part of it.  The twins, shaking, slid back into their room, but Harry saw Bill standing on the stairs, his face a mask of fury.  Sobbing could be heard from Ginny's room now and the soft cooing of Mrs. Weasley.  

"Nightmares," Ron told Harry gravely as the two of them climbed unsteadily back into their beds.  "She had two early this summer.  I think they're about everything that happened in her first year, but she won't tell us."

Harry felt a wave of sickness come over him as he lay staring at the ceiling.  The walls of the Burrow were very thin and Ginny's sobbing could still be heard faintly along with Mrs. Weasley's soft words of comfort.  Harry suddenly had a mental picture of Mrs. Weasley holding Ginny in her arms and rocking her back and forth much as she'd done to Harry the night of the Third Task only a few years ago.  Ginny didn't look very grown up in Harry's thoughts of her now.  Now he pictured her exactly as he'd seen in her in the Chamber nearly five years ago.  Tiny and young and frightened.  Sometimes, like now, Harry thought as he tried to fall asleep again, he felt exactly like that himself.

To Be Continued…

Feedback is welcome!

Casccara@yahoo.com

More Harry Potter Fanfic by Casca at: 

_The Hidden Tower_

http://hiddentower.50megs.com

And ER Fanfic by Casca at:

_Between the Lines _

http://agentsndoctors.50megs.com 


	3. Broken Souls

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  We are not making any profit on these fics - just having fun. :) We will be forever grateful to Ms. Rowling for providing us with this veritable playground for our imaginations.

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Three

Broken Souls

****

            The next morning was an unusually subdued one.  The Weasley's, except for Ginny, were all sitting at the breakfast table eating and talking, but not in the usual lively and confusing way Harry had become used to this summer.  

Over the past three years, Harry had seen the Weasley's at their lowest point.  The summer before Harry's fifth year of school when Percy had been killed had been one of the most horrific things Harry had ever seen. Harry had finally been allowed to stay at the Weasley's for the last three weeks of the summer.  One casual Sunday night, Percy had gotten into some minor difficulties at the Ministry and had had to stay late working.  This was, of course, against Mr. Weasley's judgment, but he and Percy hadn't shared the same views of the Ministry all summer.  That night, a section of the Ministry of Magic had been invaded by Death-Eaters. Percy, along with nearly thirty Ministry members had all been killed, the dark mark rising high into the sky over the destruction. It had been the first blatant event that signaled Lord Voldemort's return.  To say it had been horrific was an understatement. Harry had never seen Fred and George cry, but there they'd been, sobbing along with the rest of the family. Harry never wanted to see it again.  

            The morning found all of them restrained, all of them remembering that there was a war going on and any pretense of the contrary was exactly that: pretense.  After Mr. Weasley and Bill left for the Ministry directly after breakfast, Fred reminded everyone that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was closed that day and Harry was grateful when George said loudly, "How about a game of Quidditch?"

            The boys agreed and scattered around finding their brooms and equipment.  As Harry descended the stairs with his Firebolt in tow, he glanced at the door to Ginny's room.  It was closed. He paused a moment on the steps and wondered if she had gotten any sleep last night after her nightmare.  He knew he rarely did after a bad nightmare.  

            Flying helped turn the subdued morning into a loud and raucous scene.  They didn't get around to playing Quidditch for quite some time what with Harry's new book of Broom Charms.  The four of them tried all different charms including the roller coaster spell.  Harry's particular favorite was one that turned the broom's actions into a racing horse.  Harry could actually hear hooves galloping at top speed; it was quite exhilarating.  After the horse (broom) threw him off, Harry rolled on the ground and went over to retrieve it, grinning widely.  "You guys have got to try that."  So they did.  They used Harry's Firebolt since it was only broom that could really handle all the moves. Ron's broom wasn't fast enough to make the loop in the roller coaster, so the broom wound up sliding backwards through the entire course.

After playing with the spells and enchantments for over an hour, the four of them got down to serious Quidditch.  They couldn't play a proper game because they only had four people, so they each played Chasers and divided into two teams: Fred and George verses Harry and Ron.  It turned into a brutal game where the four boys found themselves working off the tension from breakfast and throwing all of their strength into the game.  They played rough, fouling each other constantly and flying at breakneck speed to score goals.  Harry's blood was pumping and he was glad for it.  

When Ron called for a time out, Harry felt a stab of disappointment.  He could have played all day at this rate, if it would keep his head clear.  However when Harry's feet hit the ground, he was actually pleased to be there.  At once he felt famished and exhausted, but in a good way, and he could see that Fred, George and Ron felt the same.  

"Whoa," Ron exclaimed, looking at his watch.  "It's almost one. Let's get lunch."

Everyone murmured in agreement and the four boys, sweat-drenched and panting headed for the kitchen entrance.  Mrs. Weasley was at the counter putting together a large plate of sandwiches and Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table drawing little doodles on a pad of sketch paper.  She glanced up when the boys walked through the door, and went back to her drawings without a word.

"It's about time," Mrs. Weasley said, glancing over her shoulder at the four boys that suddenly took up her entire kitchen.  "Go on upstairs and wash off, I'll get everything ready for lunch."

They trotted out of the kitchen, Harry was trailing the group behind Fred.  Before Fred had left the kitchen, Harry saw him casually place a hand on Ginny's head and ruffle her hair.  Ginny didn't look up from her drawings at the careless gesture, but Harry saw her lips curve in a tiny smile.

When they were all clean and sweat-free the four boys clambered back into the kitchen and sat around the table.  

"What's that you're drawing?" Ron asked Ginny as she continued with her sketch, unruffled by they're appearance.

Ginny lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.  "Stupid, really," she muttered, but hadn't lifted her eyes from the paper.

"Let's see then," Ron leaned over and peered at her paper and frowned.  "What are they?" he asked.

Harry and the twins leaned over to see the drawings.  Harry could make out weird looking creatures of all sorts, some with big eyes and button noses, some with floppy ears and furry bodies

"Yeah, what are they, Gin?" George asked.

She sighed.  "They're nothing.  Just doodles."

"Yeah, but . . . did you make those things up yourself?" Fred asked.

She nodded briefly and added a squiggly line to one of the creatures to give him a tail.  

Harry was about to compliment Ginny on her drawing skills when Mrs. Weasley put a plate piled with a huge sandwich and crunchy potatoes in front of him.  

"Ginny, do you want potatoes as well as your sandwich, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I'm not-" She was about to say "I'm not hungry," but was stopped by a look from her mother.  "Just the sandwich then," she muttered, closing her sketchpad and placing it on the countertop.

"Your letters from Hogwarts came today," Mrs. Weasley said as they all dug in.  All except Ginny who, Harry noted, was playing with her sandwich rather than eating it.  "After lunch, Ron, Ginny, Harry, I recommend you figure out which new supplies you'll be needing to restock for school.  Thank goodness the letters came today, you two are meeting Hermione in Diagon Alley tomorrow?" she asked Harry and Ron.  They nodded.  "Good, then Ginny can go with you."

"What if we don't want her with us?" Ron asked smugly, sending Ginny a grin to let her know it was a joke. But Ginny didn't return his smile.  

"I'll be sure to keep out of your way," she muttered.  And before Ron could say anything, she slid back her chair and got up.  "Sorry, mum, I'm really not that hungry. Excuse me."

Ron gaped after her.  "It was a _joke_."  He looked from Fred and George to Harry for support.  Then he rolled his eyes and continued eating, but Harry could tell his mood had suddenly turned foul.  

~*~

Harry had a difficult time falling asleep that night.  He lay awake, staring at the ceiling of Ron's room, the thoughts in his head turning from one insignificant thing to the next.  He thought of telling Ron that the ridiculous tint of intense orange, which made up every aspect of the bedroom was getting old.  He thought of the Chudley Cannon's, Ron's favorite Quidditch team, and how hideous their loosing streak was.  He thought about riding on his roller coaster broom tomorrow and the book Hermione had given him.

Harry found himself smiling suddenly.  He would be seeing Hermione tomorrow.  It felt as if he hadn't seen her in ages and he remembered the letter he'd received in answer to the letter he'd sent her after the attack on Privet Drive.

Dear Harry,

Thanks for your letter.  Of course, I knew that you were

fine and that whatever happened, you could take care of.

However, it was a huge relief to see Hedwig flying through

my window this morning.  She arrived rather soon after

I saw the news about Privet Drive. I imagine she was eager

to spread the word that you were okay.  There is nothing

new here.  It's very tedious living in the muggle world, as

you know, and not being able to do anything about what's

going on. Anyway, I better finish this letter as Hedwig

looks impatient to get back to you.  I'll be in touch.

Love From,

Hermione

Harry yawned and imagined that she'd probably been very worried indeed when she'd seen Privet Drive on the news.  And he understood how that felt very well: not being able to do anything, stuck in a world where he couldn't contact the people he loved or find out if anyone had been hurt because he'd dreamt of them the previous night.  Harry turned over and closed his eyes, thinking he would be very glad when all of his friends were in one place.  Tomorrow suddenly couldn't come soon enough.

******************************************

_Harry was in his old bed in his old bedroom on Privet Drive, sleeping peacefully…  Without warning, a huge ball of fire swooped through the window and landed on his bed…  He sat up in fear…  The flames in front of him grew higher than his ceiling…and suddenly his room had no ceiling, it was nothing except a dark night with flashes of green lightning.   All of a sudden, there was a huge stone cauldron…  Lord Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, all billowing robes and piercing red eyes…  Fear gripped Harry with an iron fist…  He scrambled out of bed and reached for his wand.  All he could grasp was his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages…  He threw it at Voldemort who laughed, a high piercing sound that rattled Harry's soul …  He heard a sudden cry coming from downstairs…  Harry raced down the steps and found himself standing in a nursery…  His mother was screaming, holding the baby close to her, trying to hide.  Harry stepped over Cedric's dead body and reached for his mother…   Lord Voldemort emerged from the cauldron again, laughing… Voldemort raised a wand … Harry tried to block his mother…  But she was screaming and Voldemort was laughing…  _

******************************************

On a flash of green light, Harry sat strait up in bed, gasping for breath. Slowly, like sand through an hourglass, the picture in his head slipped away leaving his eyes to focus on the tiny, messy bedroom he was in.  He was alive.  His mother was dead.  He was at the Burrow in a dark, safe room.  He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling sweat mingled with tears.  And he stumbled towards the door.

**_~*~_**

****

Ginny sat awake in the living room, her legs curled under her on the sofa as she sketched silently in her sketchbook.  Sleep had been out of the question tonight, at least yet.  She'd laid awake upstairs, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom painted with shooting stars and moons. She'd thought of Harry sleeping in the next room completely oblivious to her feelings for him and the restlessness had taken over her.  She'd gotten up, thrown on her dressing gown and made her way downstairs to the living room where she could draw and think without any shooting stars getting in her way.  

And now as she sat, completely immersed in concentration, her mind fell on the events of the last twenty-four hours.  She thought of Ron's casual comment at lunch when mum had suggested that Ginny go with them to Diagon Alley.  Not suggested, Ginny corrected herself, _imposed_.

Ginny had never minded tagging along with her older siblings, but now that she was older, she felt that she didn't have to. Ginny didn't know when it had happened, but sometime in the past few years, she'd become incredibly independent.  She enjoyed time to herself, and would much rather attend Diagon Alley by herself than with Ron, Harry and Hermione.  

That wasn't true, she corrected.  She enjoyed their company.  Being around Harry was sometimes like a full-time job on her heart, but he made her laugh. Hermione and she had gotten close over the years and Ginny was grateful for her friendship.  But Ron, Harry and Hermione shared a certain chemistry that Ginny knew she'd never be able to touch. And this afternoon at lunch, when mum had _stated_ that Ginny would simply go along with them, Ginny had felt not only out of place, but quite honestly embarrassed.  

All day long she'd been feeling as if the spotlight were on her.  Even though she'd kept herself shut in her bedroom for the better part of the day, Ginny couldn't help feeling that everyone was thinking about the scene she'd caused the previous night.  A great flush rose in her cheeks as she thought of everyone waking up at her screams.  It had happened twice before this summer and Ginny silently prayed that it never happened again.  

She hated the dreams and what they stood for.  She never wanted to be used like that again, a willing pawn in helping evil gain power.

She thought of Harry sleeping upstairs and Ginny had to put her pencil down at the embarrassment of it all.  She knew his sleep was probably haunted with nightmares as well.  But Harry didn't have a mother to hold him at night like her mother had done for her.  And now he had no home.  Ginny did.  She had everything he didn't, a family, and a home. She felt like a baby, one who couldn't deal with her fears on her own when he'd been dealing with his own ghosts by himself with nobody to fuss over him for years.  

Ginny sighed, trying to shake the sinister thoughts from her head.  She closed her sketchbook and ran her hand over the soft brown leather cover.  It had been a birthday gift from Percy in her second year and to this day she still hadn't used up all the pages.  Ginny opened the book and ran her fingertips over the words that appeared on the inside cover.  Percy had written those words.  It read:

Dear Ginny,

Perhaps now you will be able to keep all your drawings in one place rather than leaving them all over the house.  Only joking, of course!

Happy Birthday, Youngest One,

From Percy

The words were not overly sentimental, but Ginny knew better.  "Youngest One" was a title Percy had come up with for her and he'd only used the name very scarcely.  Not because he hadn't wanted to; when Percy had been involved in something, nothing else could be held of any importance.  If Percy had been in the middle of his homework or a report for the Ministry, he wouldn't have given Ginny the time of day, let alone remember a pet name for her.  But he did remember sometimes and that had been enough for her. Ginny knew that her ironically calling him "Oldest One," had meant a lot to him as well.  He'd never said it did, but she'd known.

Ginny let the tears well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks.  She suddenly ached for her brother, for the pretentious, bigheaded boy she'd looked up to her entire life.  She would have gladly stayed out of his way for as long as he liked, just to hear him call her Youngest One again.

Wiping the tears from her face with the sleeve of her dressing gown, Ginny flipped to the first page of the sketchbook.  She saw Bill's face, grinning up at her.  Ginny almost winced at her drawing skills from that time.  Bill's nose looked incredibly off-center and his eyes were way too far apart.  Still, Ginny found herself grinning through her tears at her brother's lopsided face.

With each page she turned, Ginny saw her skills getting slightly better.  Some of the drawings she'd tried to bewitch with moving charms, and some had been successful.  However many of the sketches had been changed a bit when the charms had gone wrong.  She giggled softly at a particular drawing, which depicted a ballerina she'd seen in her Muggle Studies book. Ginny had tried to charm the picture to make the ballerina twirl around gracefully like her book depicted.  But all the dancer could do was turn once, loose her balance and fall flat on her bum. 

She turned the pages slowly and stopped suddenly.  On the page she'd turned, was a drawing of Harry on his broom.  She'd done this one summer as the boys had played Quidditch in the field.  Ginny had been watching them as she always did and the inspiration had struck her.  She'd raced into the house, grabbed her sketchbook and started sketching very quickly, trying to capture his fluid movement.  The rough sketch had turned into a highly detailed drawing.  She even recognized the specially curved handle of the Nimbus Two Thousand, Harry's old broomstick.  Ginny remembered sitting out there for hours while they played, her eyes darting from the scene in the air back down to her paper thousands of times, working longer and harder than she ever had on a drawing.

A sudden movement from across the room broke Ginny's concentration.  Ginny sat up and watched Harry descend the steps, breathing sharp, gasping breaths.  She watched him sit down on a step close to the bottom and put his head in his hands, his entire body shaking violently.  

Ginny held her breath. He only had to look up and glance to the left to see her sitting on the sofa.  But he didn't look up.  He sat on the step, gripping his hair, breathing in that harsh, unnatural way.

It frightened her far more than any dream to see him like this, to see anyone like this.  She prayed that he wouldn't look up, hoping against hope that he would find the strength to go back to bed.  Nobody should ever be witnessed in this state, Ginny thought wildly.  She should look away, shift ever so slightly so that it appeared she was asleep.  

But she couldn't take her eyes off him.  He wore no glasses now, his hair stood on end, and he was clad in a tee shirt and pajama pants. She watched him rub his eyes with the palm of his hand and then press hard against his scar.  

Ginny did not know how long she sat there watching him in an agony that was indescribable. But she watched, willing the demons in his head to go away, at least for the night.  She almost gasped out loud when he stood very suddenly.  But he didn't see her.  Instead, he made for the kitchen, which was located to the right of him.  

Ginny moved quickly, taking long, silent steps to the stairs.  She could hear water pouring from the sink and then the sound of him gulping down the liquid.  Ginny turned the knob of her bedroom door and quickly slipped inside, making as little noise as possible.  When she finally closed the door behind her, she leaned back against it, closed her eyes and hugged her sketchbook to her.  

After a few minutes, she made her way, shaking, to her bed and climbed mechanically under the covers.  She lay awake for a long time after she heard footsteps climb the stairs and the door to Ron's room open and close.

 To Be Continued…

I looove feedback!

Casccara@yahoo.com

More Harry Potter Fanfic by Casca at: 

_The Hidden Tower_

http://hiddentower.50megs.com

And ER Fanfic by Casca at:

_Between the Lines _

http://agentsndoctors.50megs.com 


	4. The Last Days of Summer

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca **mailto:Casccara@yahoo.com**

**Classification**: H/G, R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through "Goblet."

**Rating**: PG 

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  Thank you for letting me have my little bit of fun!

Chapter Four

Last Days of Summer

Hermione Granger sat perched on a tall stool inside a brightly lit shop making a disgusted face.  She was watching Fred Weasley test out a new product he and his brother had invented and apparently, it wasn't working out the way he had been hoping.  Hermione tried not to look completely appalled when Fred, his mouth full of a stretchy orange candy, leaned over a colorful tin and spit out the entire contents of his mouth.  She watched him shudder slightly and shake his head apparently trying to get rid of the taste.  

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, scared to know the answer.

"It's hideous, that's what's wrong with it," he exclaimed, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer and taking a long swig.  "I told George we didn't add enough natural ingredients!  Blach!"

Hermione shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.  She'd arrived at Diagon Alley quite earlier than she'd told Ron and Harry to meet her because she'd wanted to shop for new dress robes in peace without the two of them complaining about waiting for her.  She went through it every year and didn't intend to go through it again.  So she'd purchased a new pair of dress robes for this year's Winter Formal, along with some fancy shoes.  Afterwards, she still had time to waste, so she'd decided to visit Fred's and George's shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  She'd found an irate Fred dealing with a load of customers all by himself.  Apparently, George had been on a lunch break for over an hour and Fred was plotting his murder by disgusting orange candy.  At least that's what he was muttering at this very minute, after Hermione had helped him check out the crowd of people waiting.

"Where are you supposed to be meeting Ron, then?" Fred asked, as Hermione sniffed at a suspicious looking piece of chocolate that was set out in a bowl by the register.  She chose wisely not to eat it.  

"Oh, right in front of this shop.  They should be here any minute now," she said. Checking her practical muggle watch, and leaning over to peer out the large storefront window.   

"They? Is Harry coming too?" Fred asked, pretending to be shocked.  "I thought the lovers would have wanted to be alone to go for a long stroll down the crowded street, holding hands and playing footsie . . ."

Hermione rolled her eyes.  She'd stopped being embarrassed by the twins' teasing one year ago after she and Ron had become . . . well, slightly more than friends.  Hermione didn't know how it happened, didn't know when it had snuck up on her, but one day, their constant arguing began turning personal. Bickering had turned into fighting and fighting had turned into making up… and into admitting some very interesting feelings they'd both been having for quite some time.  It had taken approximately five to seven fights over the course of their fifth year to get everything out in the open; Hermione didn't have the exact number.  

But she remembered some of the things Ron had told her word for word.  

It was then that Hermione saw Ron through the large window.  He was walking with Harry and had just happened to peer into the window.  Ron gave her a little wave and a quick wink before he got Harry's attention.  Hermione saw both of them grinning broadly at her and gesturing for her to come out.  She made a sound of delight in the back of her throat as she hopped off the stool and rushed off to meet them.

She hugged Harry first since he was closest to her and held on slightly longer than she would have normally to let him know how relieved she was that he was safe.  His smirk told her that he got the message.  Hugging Ron was different than hugging Harry; Ron's embrace was stronger and more intimate.  Hermione felt tiny shivers down the back of her neck as he gave her an extra squeeze.

"So where to first?" she asked them brightly, squinting in the sun.

"Let's get your dress robes out the way, shall we?" Ron suggested, pointing at Madam Malkins.

But Hermione grinned and help up the bag with her new dress robes.  "Already done!" 

Harry and Ron looked at each other as if they were amazed.  "Wait, wait," Ron said faintly.  "You mean to say that we don't have to sit on those flowery benches inside the shop for _four_ hours while you pick out your new robes?! Harry catch me, she's finally knocked me off my feet."  Ron pretended to swoon towards Harry and Harry elbowed him, sending Ron tumbling against a wastepaper basket.

Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes as the two of them had a silent fight, shoving each other this way and that.  "I've never made you sit _four_ hours, Ron," she said loudly over the scuffle. Ron had Harry in a headlock now and Harry's struggling caused the two of them to turn around and around in clumsy circles.  "The longest I've ever taken was an hour and that was because Madam Malkin had three people in front of me getting their Hogwarts robes _and_ dress robes.  I distinctly remember-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ron said as Harry pulled Ron's head down, trying to get him to let go.

Hermione sighed impatiently.  "People are starting to look," she scolded them, rolling her eyes at their muffled laughing.  "Honestly."

"Honestly," Harry mimicked her as he and Ron emerged from the fistfight, both grinning widely.

"Better watch out, Hermione, just because you're a girl, we have no problem with kicking your butt," Ron said, tugging in her hair.

Hermione tutted again, this time swatting Ron's hand away, and ignored his threat.  "If you two don't mind, I'm hungry," she stated sternly, but her eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"Okay, okay," Harry said.  "Gringott's first and then The Leaky Cauldron for some lunch."

"That sounds like a plan," Hermione agreed. And with that, she linked arms with the both of them and they walked down the cobblestone street to Gringotts Bank.

**_~*~_**

Ginny walked slowly along the crowded path, her eyes traveling from one shop to the next, deciding where to go first.  It hadn't been easy to shrug off Ron and Harry, but she'd done it.  

"I'm going to stay here, you two go on and meet Hermione.  I'll find you later," she'd told them as soon as they stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron.

Ron had sighed.  "Ginny, I was only joking yesterday, are you still on about that?  I don't care if you tag along."

Ginny almost shook her head at his choice of words.  Oh, no indeed, she would not be tagging along with her big brother and his best friends today.  If anything, Ron's words had reinforced her resolve.

"Come on, Ginny," she'd heard Harry say and when she looked at him, he rolled his eyes at Ron as if to tell her that he thought Ron's words had been poorly chosen as well. 

But Ginny had sent them what she hoped was an airy smile.  "Honestly, I have things I want to do that you two will find very boring, trust me."

"Like what?" Ron asked immediately.

Ginny sighed.  "Like going into Knockturn Alley and buying some illegal stuff.  I don't know, Ron!  I'm sixteen years old-"

"Not yet, you're not-"

"And I can take care of myself.  Go on, both of you, you'll be late meeting Hermione.  I'll catch up later, I promise."  

It had been Harry who'd tugged on Ron's arm.  "Let's go, she'll be fine."

At once, Ginny's eyebrows snapped together at Harry's big-brother-like words.  How did _he_ know she was going to be fine, wasn't he worried about her at _all??_

After promising to meet up in two hours, Ginny wandered in the opposite direction of them.  She purchased a new quill, some parchment and stocked up on her potion ingredients.  She wandered outside, listening to all the talk and bustle of the crowded street, and chatted briefly with some Hogwarts fifth years she knew.  Around thirty minutes before she was to meet Ron, Ginny glanced up at Madam Malkin's Robe's For All Occasions.  She walked into the shop and entertained herself with looking at the dress robes.  She couldn't buy any, of course, the ones she'd gotten two years ago still fit her, although they were rather tight in some places.  But Ginny liked to run her hands over the silky fabrics and different patterns.  One particular robe caught her eye and Ginny pulled it off the hanger and held it up against her in one of the tall mirrors that lined a wall.  It was made of a shimmery material in a pastel green adorned with a tiny pattern of silver roses sewn into the collar and lining the sleeves.

"That is perfect for you!" came an exclamation to Ginny's left.  She glanced, startled, to the side and saw a very stylish witch about Fred and George's age dressed in trendy robes of turquoise taffeta.  Her name badge said Sally Hunter, MM's Official Fashion Designer.  The woman walked over to Ginny and adjusted the robes.  "The color is perfect, it goes so well with your hair.  Would you like to try them on?"

"No, no," Ginny said hastily.  "I can't buy anything today, I was just looking."

But the girl was peering at her intently.  "You look familiar.  What's your last name?"  
           Ginny hesitated.  "Weasley."

The woman let out a huge bark of laughter.  "Weasley!  Relation to Fred and George?"

Ginny let out a sighed of relief.  "Yes, my brothers. You know them?"

"Know them! Ha!  The biggest pranksters this side of the Alley.  I do know them, yes.  I'm Sally Hunter."

"Ginny."

"Nice to meet you, Ginny.  Why don't you try on these robes just for the fun of it, eh?  You are under no obligation to buy anything, of course."

Ginny started to politely refuse, but stopped.  "Sure," she said.  After all she was under no obligation, wasn't she, and it would be fun to try them on.  Besides she had time to waste before meeting Ron in front of Flourish and Blots.

When Ginny stepped out of the dressing room in the green robes, Sally Hunter almost burst into tears.  "They are just gorgeous, just _gorgeous!_ They are _you_, Ginny."

"They are aren't they?" Ginny asked wistfully, staring at herself in the mirror.  She imagined she could save up all year and be able to get them for her last year at Hogwarts. But there would be nobody she'd want to impress at Hogwarts next year, she thought with a sigh.

"It's seems I had you in mind when I designed them," Sally said, fingering the collar of the material.

Ginny stared at her in amazement.  "You designed these?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Wow."

Ginny left Madam Malkin's with another sigh, casting one last glance at Sally Hunter hanging the dress robes up.  Oh, well, she thought to herself, it could be worse.  At least she had a very nice pair of dress robes at home.  They were a little worn and everyone had already seen her in them two years in a row.  But Ginny didn't hold things like that high on her list of grievances.  It was fun to wish for, though.

She walked down the long street, now heading for Flourish and Blotts.  As she approached the bookstore, she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione standing a ways down. Ron and Hermione were standing close to each other, talking frantically, seemingly arguing about something.  Harry stood next to them, but slightly removed.  He was leaning against a lamppost, squinting in the sun, his eyes wandering over the vast crowd.  Every so often, he would cast an impatient glance at Ron and Hermione, and shake his head slightly, apparently thinking that their argument was not worth the effort they were putting into it.

Ginny stood still for a moment and watched Harry.  Not for the first time, she wondered if Harry felt awkward that Ron and Hermione were together.  Even though he never gave any sign that he felt uncomfortable around them, Ginny knew it must be an issue for him even if it wasn't a very big one.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Ginny put a smile on her face and went over to join them.  

"At last, some feminine company!" Hermione sighed and Ginny grinned at her. The two girls wrapped each other in a tight hug.  "I'm glad you're here, Gin, I already need a holiday from these men."

Ginny snorted.  "Men?"

Hermione grinned and rolled her eyes.  "I guess you're right… little boys, they are, aren't they?"

They giggled loudly and Ron crossed his arms.  "If that's the way you're going to be, you can just go off on your own again, Miss Sweet Sixteen."

Hermione gasped and put an arm around Ginny's shoulder.  "That's right! January the twenty-first!  What shall I get you, something grown-up, perhaps your first Shimmering Glossing Potion for your lips?"  
           Ginny burst out laughing.  "Mum got me that when I turned thirteen.  Fred and George stole it to use in one of their concoctions."

    "I was only joking," Hermione laughed and linked arms with her.  "I'll think of something brilliant, don't worry."

At once, Ginny felt incredibly stupid for straying away from them earlier.  

The four of them walked around Diagon Alley some more, stopping every now and then to pick up something they needed. When the sun started to set and the warm summer breeze began to pick up, they settled themselves at a round table outside of Flourean's nursing ice cream, the sky brilliant shades of pink and orange.

They were joined shortly by Neville Longbottom, who had passed with his Grandmother.  Mrs. Longbottom left Neville with them to go and do some shopping she needed to get done."

"Thanks," Neville said with relief, sliding into a chair Harry had pulled up for him.  "She's been driving me crazy all day," he said nodding towards his Grandmother as she went into the Apothecary.  "Just because I forgot my list of required books at home.  I told her that it doesn't matter, the owner of Flourish and Blott's keeps all Hogwarts required lists on the bulletin.  But nothing doing.  I think she secretly likes finding reasons to shout."

They laughed.

"So did you guys hear about the Puddlemere game yesterday?" Neville asked eagerly and the three boys launched into a discussion of Quidditch.

"So, how has your summer been?" Ginny asked Hermione with a smile.

"Oh," she sighed.  "A bit boring, I suppose. I managed to keep busy at my dad's office working as a nurses assistant.  I learned a lot about the dental field should I ever want to work as a muggle dentist.  But I also took full advantage of being able to use magic at home.  Gave me the opportunity to study for my N.E.W.T's very thoroughly." 

Ginny nodded, thinking that she would rather spend the day locked in a broom closet with Draco Malfoy than study over the summer.  She voiced this to Hermione "You're lucky to be motivated, I basically did nothing this summer."

"Nothing?" Hermione said.  "Come on, you must have done something.  Any new drawings?"

"Oh, yeah," Ginny exclaimed and told Hermione about them and her success with Animating Charms.  

"Wow," Hermione breathed.  "They sound wonderful, you'll have to show me."

"NO!  It wasn't like that, the Chaser was the one who fell and Keeper had gotten fouled—It was the same play that happened in Whales verses Ireland last year," Harry was exclaiming and launched into an explanation.  

Ginny watched as Harry grabbed his wand to draw the play in the air.  When she turned back, Hermione had a small, secret smile on her face.

"What?" Ginny asked.  "Oh, come on, stop it," she whispered as Hermione's smile widened.

"How was this summer, really?" Hermione asked quietly.

Ginny rolled her eyes and mouthed "be quiet," although the boys were making such a racket while they argued about fouls, that Hermione could have shouted, "So, Ginny you still have that crush on Harry, then?" and he still wouldn't be the wiser.

"Did anything… well, anything new?" Hermione asked.

Ginny glanced at Harry quickly before relying.  "Nothing."

Hermione didn't look convinced. "Nothing?" 

Ginny shook her head, smiling wistfully.  "Nothing."

Hermione sighed furiously and cast a killer look at Harry before turning back to Ginny.  "Give him time," she said.

Ginny laughed. "Hermione, that's all I've been doing. I give up."

Her eyes went round.  "Don't you dare!" she hissed.  

Ginny rolled her eyes and said in a hushed voice.  "Hermione we lived in the same house for one month this summer.  He still doesn't even _look_ at me." The she cast an look at Harry who was shaking his head and mumbling to himself at something Ron was insisting.

"He has other things on his mind, Ginny," Hermione said quietly.

"I know.  And I understand that.  But that doesn't mean he's not a stupid idiot," Ginny said calmly and sipped her Freezing Mud ice cream drink.  

It took Hermione about five seconds to realize what Ginny had said and when she did, she burst into startled giggles. Ginny watched her in horror, and glanced over at the boys who had stopped talking and were looking at Hermione curiously.  But Hermione had started laughing in an uncontrollable manner and soon they were both beside themselves with laughter and Ginny couldn't catch her breath. Harry, Ron and Neville rolled their eyes, but they couldn't help grinning reluctantly at the two girls giggling so hard they couldn't breath and at Hermione who had abandoned all hope and collapsed onto the table with her head in her arms.  Ginny finally sobered enough to wipe tears from her cheeks, but when she glanced at Hermione's state, she felt the laughter that bubbled in her throat and all was lost again. 

**_~*~_**

The night before term started was not nearly as hectic as it had once been when both Fred and George had attended Hogwarts.  Still, there were lots of last minute things to do; Ginny, Ron and Harry were running up and down the stairs, getting things ready to go in the morning.  It took Ginny over an hour to pack everything into her rather small trunk, but she worked diligently, remembering to include her drawing supplies, dress robes, Hogwarts uniforms, the cosmetics case she'd gotten for her birthday last year, all her books and supplies and few decorative items she liked to adorn her side of the dorm with.  

Mrs. Weasley made a spectacular dinner that everyone ate outside, under the stars and after dinner, Fred and George entertained the group with their very first line of magical fireworks. Unlike Filibusters, these fireworks twisted and turned into different types of animals and famous witches and wizards.  Everyone oohed and ahhed at a particularly gorgeous one of the famous witch Morgana which illuminated the sky in colorful sparkles.

After the "show" was over with, everyone marveled on the fireworks and talked lazily.  Ginny was feeling rather tired, so she stood and said goodnight to everybody.  She climbed the stairs to her room, feeling that if she got to bed early, she wouldn't be a tired mess in the morning.  She opened the door to her room and the site that met her made her gasp aloud.  The somewhat tidy room she usually kept, was greatly disturbed.  Her trunk stood opened at the foot of her bed and its contents were strewn all over the room.  Ginny saw her dress robes suspended in the air, her quills and parchment at the very top of her bookshelf, higher than she could reach; all her school books were sticking out from underneath her bed, and her cosmetics case was lying open on the floor, various tubes and bottles dotting her rug. Nearly two hours worth of careful packing was scattered over her entire room. Ginny barely had time to wonder who had done this when she spotted a piece of parchment floating over her bed, fluttering around as if it were a snitch.  After several tries, she managed to grab the paper and read what it said.  

_Consider this an early birthday present, _

_F&G,_

_PS-- GOTCHA!!_  

She let out a scream of fury and raced downstairs to kill her twin brothers.

To Be Continued…

Back to the Hidden Tower

Feedback is welcome!

**mailto:Casccara@yahoo.com**


	5. Home Sweet Home

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through "Goblet"

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Five

Home Sweet Home

****

****

         Harry turned from behind the barrier  and watched the Hogwart's express come into view.  Ron appeared at his side and then Ginny, both of them carting their trunks and packages.  Harry glanced up at the bright red steam engine with the Hogwarts Crest emblazed on its side and he realized that this would be the very last time he would ever board the Hogwarts Express from King's Cross Station as a student.  The thought seemed to sink into his heart, causing him to remember events from the past seven years.  The one that stuck out the most had taken place in his very first year.  He hadn't any idea how to get onto the platform and Mrs. Weasley's passing voice complaining about muggles had been his salvation.  Harry grinned at the memory.  

         "Ron! Harry! Ginny!"

         They all looked up to see Hermione waving at them from one of the train's sliding doors.  Harry, Ron and Ginny waited for the conductor to take their luggage before joining Hermione, who told them she'd saved an empty compartment.

As they walked down the familiar row of compartments inside the Hogwarts Express, Ginny was stopped by Colin Creevy.  "Hey, Ginny, we saved you a seat," said the sixth year boy peeking out from a door.  Colin nodded to Harry, Ron and Hermione and Harry was quite relieved that Colin didn't ask Harry if he wanted to join them- Colin's infatuation with Harry had ended a few years back.  Ginny went to join her friends and Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed their way into the compartment Hermione had saved for them.  

However, three other people now occupied the box.

Draco Malfoy looked up from his casual position on the seat and raised an eyebrow.  His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle copied him.  "Well, well, well," he drawled.  "It appears the Heir to the Throne and his two jesters have arrived yet again."

Harry felt a hot ball settle in the pit of his stomach as he looked at Malfoy, who stood for all the evil, all the destruction that was going on in the magical world.  Lucius Malfoy had been among them to invade the Ministry the night Percy had been killed.  Gone were the days when Harry could suppress his loathing, his absolute _hate_, for Draco Malfoy. Gone were the days when he could be trusted not to kill the son of a-

"Let's go," came Hermione's voice very firmly.  "Now. Harry, Ron-" 

"Go on, do what you're girlfriend says, Weasley.  Or is it Potter?  How _does_ this little trio work anyway, does Granger let you take turns-"

The compartment rang with Harry's and Ron's shouts as they both lunged at Malfoy. But Hermione shoved in front of them.  "Let's go. NOW."  She pushed them both out of the compartment and slammed the door closed.  

Ron swore so loudly and fiercely, a group of second year girls gasped out loud from inside their box.  Hermione lead them down the aisle and managed to find another empty compartment.  Ron sat down on one of the seats, his face a mask of rage, and Harry sat down opposite him, his chest burning with a hatred that almost scared him.  Hermione remained standing.

"You can't bait him," she whispered. "It's too dangerous-"

"We didn't bait him!" Ron shouted at her, making her jump.  "We didn't say anything to him and why the hell did you stop us? Did you hear what he said?"

Hermione's voice shook.  "He's not worth it, Ron. Not to mention it's just too dangerous-"

"Awe, come off it," Ron spat.

Hermione sat down next to Harry and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes in defeat. "Fine. I don't want to fight about Malfoy, Ron."

         The misery in Hermione's voice brought Harry back to earth and because her hand was right next to his on the seat, he gave it a quick squeeze.

         They sat in silence as the train pulled out of the station and made it's long progress through the countryside to Hogwarts.  Harry watched the passing scenery through the window, the incident with Malfoy replaying over and over in his mind.  Since Ron and Hermione were not speaking at all, it was hard to distract himself from thinking about it.

         However, he knew if he didn't let it go, the thought of it would plague his mind the entire day and he didn't want that.  He glanced at Ron, who was doing the same thing as Harry, staring out the window and thinking.  Harry turned to Hermione next to him and saw that she had her head leaned back and her eyes closed.  Sensing him watching her, Hermione opened her eyes and slanted them at Harry.  She gave him a small smile.

         "Tired?" he asked her and she nodded again, and she sat up to stretch her neck.

         "I didn't get much sleep last night," she murmured and promptly yawned.

Harry nodded, understanding completely.

Ron finally glanced up at her. Their eyes locked and after a few seconds, Hermione wordlessly got up from her seat and went to join Ron on his side.  She laid her head on his shoulder and he slid his arm around her, pulling her close. She was asleep within minutes.  

         "We should try to avoid him at all costs," Ron said to Harry in a low voice a while later as Hermione slept on his shoulder.  Harry had turned down the lanterns after Hermione had fallen asleep and the sky outside was turning dark. 

         Harry nodded and turned to look out the window.  "Yeah," he said, watching the scenery fly by outside.  "The question is, how?"

         Hermione stirred then and they cut their conversation short.  She sat up strait and rubbed her eyes, yawning slightly.  She looked around as Harry reached over to flick the lantern on.  "What time is it?  Are we almost there?"

         "Almost," Harry said, peering out the window.  "Perhaps an hour or so."

         Hermione adjusted her robes and tried to tame her thick hair. Satisfied, she leaned once again on Ron's shoulder and gazed at Harry.  "You think Quidditch will be canceled again?" she asked him.

         He sighed.  "I don't see why it wouldn't be. Nothing's changed since last year.  Things have gotten even worse."

         Hermione and Ron both nodded.  Shaking his head, Harry reached over and grabbed a deck of cards.  "Shall we have a game?" he asked them.  They agreed and spent the remainder of the time playing cards.

         The Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade station a little while later and everyone piled out of the train and into the beautiful starry night.  

"What a gorgeous night," Hermione murmured, staring up at the black sky.  Harry saw Ron take her hand.  

         "Firs' years! Righ' here! Firs' years, follow me to the boats!"

         Something very pleasant filled Harry just then and a smiled dawned on his face as he turned to find the source of the familiar voice.

         "Hey, Hagrid," Harry grinned and watched the gamekeeper lead the small group of first years to the boats.  Hagrid grinned at Harry through his thick beard and lifted his hand in a wave. Something in Hagrid's eyes told Harry that he was thinking about the attack on Privet Drive.  Harry nodded at him in a reassuring sort of way.

         They stood around waiting for the carriages to take them up to the castle, people milling around, talking and hugging, sharing stories of their summers.  Harry, Ron and Hermione stood together and were joined by Ginny a few moments later.  The four of them piled into a carriage together and rode up to the castle.  

Harry found himself staring out at the palace he called home. He suddenly felt a mad rush to get there, for all of them to get there.  He had missed the security and the strength that Hogwarts offered and was suddenly very eager to be inside the walls of the castle. 

Once inside the Great Hall, with it's floating candles and long house tables, torch lit walls and gold table settings, Harry heard Hermione breath a huge sigh of relief and he knew he wasn't the only one who felt reassured to finally be there.  

The Gryffindors took their seats and began talking at once. Everyone seemed eager to get back into the swing of things and talking all about their holiday was the way to do it.  Harry didn't mention Privet Drive, as everyone must have already found out through the Daily Prophet.  But he and Ron shared some great moments from their summer at the Burrow and they even browbeat Ginny into telling the story of Berstein and the prank she's played on the twins years ago.  Everyone at the table was roaring with laughter by the time Professor McGonnagal lead the first year students inside the hall to be Sorted. 

The group of new students was rather small and Harry realized that it got smaller each year that Voldemort had been in power.  People were scared to send their children away these days.  Harry couldn't understand this; it was well-known that Hogwarts was the safest place to be because of Dumbledore's reign, however some wizards and witches seemed not to agree.

After the Sorting Ceremony ended, there was much applause and Dumbledore stood up at his place at the head table.  "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said loudly, casting his bright blue eyes around the room, but Harry noticed that he looked extremely tired.  "Before we have our great feast, there are a few things I would like to address.  As usual the forest is out of bounds to all students, but that is not news to you, I must hope.  I also have the pleasure in announcing our new Head Boy and Girl, Mr. Justin Finch-Fletchly of Hufflepuff"- they're was a huge round of applause- "and Miss Hermione Granger of Gryffindor!"  The Gryffindors exploded with applause and Hermione blushed deeply.  Harry and Ron grinned at her and Harry clapped loudly; Hermione had told them in Diagon Alley. "I also would like to announce that in light of the goings-on outside of Hogwarts, your course schedules will suffer a few changes." Everyone murmured curiously.  "It is important for all of us to arm ourselves with as many defenses as we can in these times and you will now be attending two sessions of Defense Against the Dark Arts.  One class will be your regularly scheduled session pertaining to your year.  The other however, will be the same class taught to all students in years one through seven and will focus on defense only.  

"As was the case last year, in accordance to the safety measures that surround Hogwarts, the Inner House Quidditch tournament will not be taking place this year."  

Harry sighed and shook his head.  This didn't come as a surprise, but it was a disappointment, nonetheless.

"It is with great regret that I say that, but safety is the first priority at Hogwarts.  I wish everyone a wonderful and safe year, and to our new students, welcome!  Let the feast begin!"

At his words, the tables in the hall were suddenly overflowing with bowls and dishes of delicious looking foods, desserts and drinks.  Everyone started filling their plates at once, eating and talking about things of unimportance.  If anyone showed any feelings towards the new Defense Against the Dark Art's class, they didn't show it.  People were eager to talk about things that did not pertain to Voldemort.

As usual, Harry enjoyed listening to the conversations around him, rather than being the focus of one.  He listened as Ginny told Hermione about some dress robes she'd seen in Madam Malkins, Dean telling Ron all about his Soccer Team and Seamus and Lavender having a hushed fight about some boy Lavender had been owling over the summer.  Harry let his eyes wander over the Head table.  He watched Hagrid talking to one of the teachers in an animated sort of way, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore having a quiet discussion and . . . Harry's eyes riveted on Snape's usual chair.  It was empty.

Harry nudged Ron and nodded towards the table.  Ron saw instantly what Harry had seen and voiced what Harry was thinking.  "You think he's . . . with him?" Ron asked in a low, hesitant voice, "him" being Voldemort.

Harry's eyes didn't leave the empty chair as he shrugged.

"You still think it was him that tipped off Dumbledore? About Privet Drive?" Ron asked him in a low voice.

Harry shook his head.  "Haven't a clue.  Who else could it have been?"

Ron shook his head as well. "Dunno.  Perhaps he's the one teaching the new defense class."

Harry sighed.  "Voldemort wouldn't like that very much, would he?"

Ron nodded and they both saw Hermione glance their way, but Ginny was still talking to her and she couldn't very well cut her off.  Harry forced himself to smile to let her know things were okay, but Hermione still looked worried.

After eating as much as they could, all the benches in the great hall scraped the floor as everyone prepared to go to their respective house common rooms.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way with the rest of the Gryffindors through the portrait hole, which lead to the Gryffindor common room.  Harry thought that every tapestry, every chair, sofa and rug looked to be in the exact same position they'd been in when he'd last seen them the end of last term. Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville piled into their old dorm that now had a small plaque hanging on the door which read "Seventh Years."

It was good to be home, Harry thought as he struggled into his pajamas and removed his glasses.  He climbed into his four-poster, pulled the warm covers up and fell asleep instantly.

**_~*~_**

         Ron awoke earlier than the rest of the boys, and he laid in bed for a while before finally giving in and getting up.  He couldn't get his mind past the fight he and Hermione had had on the train.  They hadn't talked about it and had "made up" without actually saying anything about it, but it still irritated him. He supposed he wouldn't be so angry about it if Draco Malfoy hadn't been the source of their fighting through the entire summer.

         Couldn't Hermione understand that Malfoy was not going to go away no matter how much they ignored him?  Didn't she understand that he and Harry could not be subjected to sit idly by while Malfoy made some disgusting comments to them?  Didn't she understand that Malfoy's father had all but killed Percy?

         Bad-tempered, Ron yanked the covers off and got dressed.  It was an hour earlier than he usually awoke for breakfast, but he didn't care.  He needed some time alone to work out exactly how he was going to control himself around his enemy.  

         Ron padded down to the common room, ready to head down to eat his breakfast alone and in deep thought.  He stopped when he saw his sister sitting in an armchair, her legs bent underneath her, her sketchbook propped on her knees.  She looked very calm and very content while she sketched solemnly, the morning sunlight streaming through the window next to her.  Ron wished he could feel the way she looked.

         "Hey," he said, walking over.

         Ginny added a touch of something to her drawing and then looked up.  Ron saw that her eyes weren't peaceful at all.  They looked as he felt . . . unsettled.  Ron sat down in a chair across from her.  "What are you doing up so early?" he asked.

         Ginny sighed heavily and went back to her drawing, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.  "Dunno. You?"  
         Ron sighed and looked out the window to the lake and the forest.  "I don't know," he lied.  

         They sat in silence for a while, the scrape of Ginny's pencil on the paper the only sound in the room.  Then Ginny said, "Hermione came down right before you did, said she couldn't sleep.  She went strait to breakfast though." 

Ron sighed and sat where he was.  After a few minutes, he stood up and walked through the portrait hole, Ginny lifting her eyes briefly to glance at him.

Ron found Hermione sitting in an almost empty Great Hall, her nose stuck in a book.  Few people sat at their respective house tables eating an early breakfast, and Professor's McGonagall and Sprout were at the head table flipping through course schedules.  

"Hey," Ron said to Hermione and he pulled out a chair directly across from her and sat down. 

Hermione closed the book and placed it on the table, lifting her eyes to give him a small smile.  "Hi. What are you doing up so early?"

Ron shrugged.  "I couldn't sleep."

"Mmm," Hermione said, now helping herself to a piece of toast.  "Me neither."

They sat in silence for a while, eating toast and when Hermione reached for her book again, Ron cleared his throat.  "Hermione, about yesterday-"

Hermione shook her head.  "It doesn't matter, Ron.  I don't want to fight about him anymore."

"Me neither, that's why Harry and I agreed that . . . well, we agreed that we're going to try really hard not to . . . you know, bait him.  Or even be around him."

Hermione nodded slowly.  "Thank you."

Ron nodded as well and they're eyes met in an understanding.

"What's that your reading?" Ron asked, helping himself to some bacon.

"Arithmancy text. I figured I should get a head start on Chapter One."

"Nerd," he said affectionately.

Hermione gave him a hurt look that was thwarted by his grin.  He found her foot under the table and gave it a little nudge.  

"Only joking," he said.

"It's not funny," she retorted, her eyes now sparkling, her mouth curved in a reluctant smile.  It was really something having Hermione all geared for an argument and being able to soften her up with just a smile or a look.  

"Yeah, it is, come on, admit it," he said, locking his eyes with her and grinning as she kicked his foot hard.

"It's not," she said loftily.

"It is," he said firmly, sliding his foot over hers again and forgetting what "it" even was.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Hermione said sarcastically.

Ron laughed loudly as Ginny sat down at the table.  "What's so funny?" Ginny asked irritably.

"You know," Hermione said, her face suddenly shining with laughter. "I don't even remember."

**_~*~_**

         A week into the term, Harry received a letter by owl from Professor Dumbledore saying that he'd arranged a meeting in his office and Harry was to attend.  It was the oddest thing—why would Dumbledore go to all the trouble of sending him a letter by owl when he could simply walk up to Harry during any given meal and tell him in person.  He showed the letter to Ron and Hermione and they both read it slowly.

         "What do think it's all about?" Ron asked, rereading the letter for the fifth time.

         "What I want to know is, what's with the secrecy?  I mean sending an owl and everything…"

         Ron shook his head.  "Perhaps something about Privet Drive?"

         "Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully, taking the letter from Ron and rereading it.  

         "It's not like Dumbledore's never called you into his office before, Harry," Hermione reasoned.

         "Yeah, but something makes me uneasy about it.  I mean, read that, "You're presence is requested," it sounds so formal.

         Ron shrugged.  "Eh, you know Dumbledore, Harry.  He's nutters like that; it could very well be tea or something."  

         Harry shook his head.  "It says here he arranged a meeting.  That sounds like other people will be there. Doesn't it?"

         "Hmm," Hermione said thoughtfully.  "I suppose.  Perhaps the Dursley's?"

         Harry looked shocked.  "Why would the Dursley's be here? You think he's going to explain to them about Voldemort?" 

         Ron swallowed a mouthful of bread.  "It's not the Dursely's, Hermione. Harry, don't sweat it, mate.  He's probably just going to see if your doing okay since what happened over the summer."

         "You think?" he asked anxiously, looking at Hermione.  

         "Hmm," she said again. "Sure, Harry.  I mean what else could it be?"

But Harry could see that she looked as worried as he felt.

To Be Continued…

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	6. Bene Omnia Vincit

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/Hrm, Drama/Romance

**Summary**: Chapter Six- Dumbledore informs Harry of his plan to protect Hogwarts from Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Yes, through "Goblet." 

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros. 

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Six

Bene Omnia Vincit

            On the day of the meeting, Ron and Hermione went with him to the statue in front of Dumbledore's office.

            "Okay, we'll meet you at dinner afterwards, Harry," Ron said.

            "No," Hermione interjected.  "What if it's something really important, we can't discuss it at the table.  We'll wait for you before we go to dinner, Harry."

            "I don't how long it's going to take, Hermione," Harry said.  "What if-"

            "Hello," said a kind voice behind them.  The statue had opened up and Professor Dumbledore stood there, his eyes on all three of them.  "If you're quite ready, Harry?"

            Harry nodded.  "I'll catch up to you later," he said to Ron and Hermione.  Then he followed Dumbledore up the staircase.  Upon entering the office, Harry gasped at what he saw. Sirius was standing by the fireplace in Dumbledore's office.

            "Sirius," he exclaimed.  "What are you-" But Harry stopped speaking when he noticed that the room held another occupant.  Professor Snape was standing on the opposite side of the room, his face completely unreadable.  Harry looked from Sirius to Snape and back again.  His heart began pounding and he had no idea why.

            Professor Dumbledore walked around to his desk and sat down, instructing Harry to do the same.  When Harry sat down in the chair facing Dumbledore's desk, the Headmaster began speaking and Harry couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.  

            "You are no doubt wondering what this is all about Harry.  I shall get to the point.  Over the last three years, since Lord Voldemort's return, I have been researching methods of protection. The safety of this castle is my priority and I cannot rely on our old methods of protection. If evil should ever enter this realm, I want full assurance that it can be driven out with as little devastation as possible.  Lord Voldemort has proven that he can push through barriers and find a way to get what he wants.  He will never get Hogwarts."

            Harry's eyes were locked on Dumbledore's and he could almost feel the determination that was blazing in the wizard's face.

Dumbledore continued.  "The magic which was used to restore Voldemort to his body is very old and very dark magic.  The only way we can protect ourselves is to understand exactly how he returned to his physical state.  Only with full knowledge can we begin to examine possible solutions for complete protection and ultimately full banishment.

"Voldemort was revived using three basic elements.  An enemy, a servant and a relation.  It is my understanding and belief that with those same elements, we can forge a protection against him that will be stronger than any other. Also, it is my hope that these elements can provide the necessary force to drive him away altogether." 

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought.  "We need to use the same elements Voldemort used when he was restored to his body," Harry said slowly.  "But… Wormtail's dead. How can we use him if-"

"We can't.  This spell will not be an exact duplication of Voldemort's. Our elements must be based in pure goodness and with full consent from each of the three. The servant we shall use must wholly renounce Voldemort in every aspect or the spell will fail."

Before he could stop himself, Harry turned to look at Snape.  Snape did not return his gaze, but stared solemnly at Dumbledore.  

"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked quietly, looking up at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore met his gaze.  "Professor Snape will provide that particular element.  I shall provide the element needed to rival Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore leaned towards Harry. "While we have no relation to him who can consent to providing the third link, my research has brought me to another conclusion, Harry." 

Harry's eyes now darted nervously from Dumbledore to Sirius. He was scared now, every bone in his body seemed to know what Dumbledore was about to say.  Sirius moved suddenly and sat in a chair beside Harry, grasping his shoulder.  

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze and nodded slowly.  "An original heir of one of the four founders can take the place of the relative."  Harry's eyes slid closed.  "It's my belief that using this particular constituent may take the spell even further than acting as a protection.  I am not certain, and have no way of knowing right now, but using you as the third element could mean the demise of Lord Voldemort."

Harry was breathing very fast.  "And if it's not?" he blurted.  "I mean, no disrespect Professor, but if it doesn't work-"

"The spell can work to drive Voldemort away from Hogwarts should he ever set foot here, this I am certain.  As for complete banishment . . . well, Harry, that is not an answer I have at this point. I will continue my research but I need your absolute consent so that we can begin preparation.  Your wand will play an integral role in the spell and I must know your choice.  You, of course, will have a short time to think about it-"

"I'll do it," Harry said immediately.  He turned to look at Sirius for support and saw that his godfather's eyes were boring holes right through him.  They were full of terror and… pride, a fierce pride that Harry knew he would never, ever forget.  "I have to do it…right?"

"You don't have to do anything, Harry," Sirius said in stern voice.  

But Harry turned back to Dumbledore.  "I will."

Dumbledore nodded as if he hadn't expected otherwise.

Harry spoke again, unable to believe he could find his voice.  "What is this spell?  Can I know what it involves?"

"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly.  "Bene Omnia Vincit.  Goodness will conquer all.  It is a spell that requires complete and total dedication.  A chant you shall repeat when facing Voldemort.  With all three elements reciting the incantation, all three wands aimed at the force of evil, a protective barrier will surround each element, providing a protection from the enemy whilst driving the evil away from the surrounding place. The spell will only be successful if performed on Hogwarts grounds, of course. Should Lord Voldemort never set foot on the grounds of this castle, the spell will never take place."

"But, Professor . . . if using the three elements means the end of Voldemort, and we  have all three elements, isn't there a way to lure him here and perform the spell so that . . . so that the war could be over?"

Dumbledore sighed.  "That would seem to be a possible solution, wouldn't it? However, I will not allow evil to cross the threshold of this castle if I am not in every respect certain that it would lead to compete banishment.  And I cannot be completely certain of that, Harry.  All I am certain of is that three ties can protect this castle against unwanted corruption." 

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and the small group inside his office was banked in silence for a few minutes.  

"Do you have anything else you would like to ask, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him then. 

There were dozens of questions racing through his mind, but Harry had no desire to know the answers to them at this moment.  He shook his head.  

Dumbledore nodded.  "This is a lot to take in, Harry. I understand that.  I will be in touch when we are ready to begin training."

Harry stood and so did Dumbledore.  "I believe Sirius wants a word with you alone, Harry.  Severus," Dumbledore gestured for Snape to follow him and Harry watched the two of them exit.

Once alone, Sirius approached Harry and placed his hands on either side of his neck, much as he had done after Privet Drive had been taken.  "You need to be sure, Harry."

"I am sure.  I have to do this.  There's no other way-"

But Sirius repeated what he said.  "You need to be sure, Harry.  I can give you many reasons why you shouldn't do this.  But I cannot make the decision, that's for you."

Harry suddenly found breathing difficult.  "I have to do it.  I don't know how I know, I just. . . know.  I have to do it."

Sirius nodded and for the first time ever, he embraced Harry and held him tight.  "You reminded me of your father when you told Dumbledore you'd do it.  He would have done the same, with no hesitation. Just like you did."

Harry stood where he was in Sirius's father-like embrace and felt tears at the back of his throat.  He found himself holding onto his godfather suddenly for support; the full weight of what Dumbledore had been speaking of was suddenly upon Harry and he felt like he couldn't breath, much less speak.

**_~*~_**

****

Sirius and Harry stayed inside Dumbledore's office for nearly an hour, talking about the spell and what it would entail.  Harry asked him all the questions he hadn't felt like asking Dumbledore and Sirius answered them the best he could.  When Harry finally left Dumbledore's office, it was well after dinnertime, so he went to the common room at once to find Ron and Hermione.  He needed them, he needed to hear that he'd done the right thing as only they could tell him.  He was still shaking slightly as he climbed through the portrait hole and scanned the room for his friends, spotting them at once, sitting with Ginny and Neville.  When Ron saw Harry, he said something to Hermione and they both stood and walked over to Harry upon Ginny's curious looks.

Hermione, of course, fussed.  "Harry, you look white as a ghost. What happened?  Did you ever get any dinner?  What did Dumbledore say?"

"Hermione, let him breath, will you?"

"Come here," Harry said and dragged them into a corner.  

He told them everything that had transpired in Dumbledore's office and when he finished, Hermione had bitten off half her nails and Ron had wrung his Chudley Cannons hat into a tight ball.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed.  "You really should think about this before you agree to do it-"

"I have to do it," Harry said fiercely.  "There's no other solution, I have to."

Hermione repeated Sirius's words.  "But Harry you don't _have _to do 

anything-"

"Of course he does," Ron said sharply.  "You heard him.  There's no other solution for him, Hermione, and you know it."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Ron.

Hermione sighed.  "Of course I know it, I just want him to be safe and I can't help thinking-"

"Do you think it's the wrong thing for me to do?" Harry asked her.

"No, Harry, I don't," she said.  Then she heaved a huge sigh.  "I don't know about you but I'm getting pretty sick and tired of it always being you as the chosen one, that's all."

She said this so fiercely and with complete loyalty that Harry found himself grinning and leaning over to wrap his arms around her.  It was something he rarely did and it surprised all three of them.  "Imagine how I feel," he joked, and he was overcome with amazement that he was teasing about this.  Harry could almost feel his confidence spread as Hermione held him tightly. 

"Wanna let go of my girl, there, Harry?" Ron said casually after a few seconds.  

Hermione giggled as Harry tugged her closer.  "Make me," he said, grinning at Ron.  

"Oh, you don't want me to make you, trust me," Ron mocked with a grin of his own. 

"I will not be fought over," Hermione announced to them and stood up.  "I'm off to bed," she said and rewarded each of them with a kiss on the cheek. With a laugh, she had to wrench her hand away from Ron's as he pulled her back.  "Good night," she scolded them both, smiling.  

"That's one great girl we got there," Ron yawned as they both stood.  

"Yeah, and she likes you better," Harry said miserably, but his grin gave him away.  "How ever did it happen?"

"It was all part of my master plan," Ron said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. The he made a grab at Harry who stole Ron's hat out his hands.

But Harry started towards the spiral staircase, jamming the hat on his head.  "What was that plan called, Weasley?  Pure luck?" Harry said, grinning back at Ron.

"You wish, Potter," Ron grinned back and snatched the hat off Harry's head.

They said goodnight to Ginny and made their way up the spiral staircase to their dorm. 

**_~*~_**__

The next week wore on.  Dumbledore hadn't contacted Harry at all since the meeting and Harry was beginning to feel a uneasy about it.  Were there problems with his research?  Had they made a mistake and Harry didn't need to be used?  He wished with all his hearts that the latter was correct, that it had been some bizarre mistake that he, Harry, would be needed to banish Voldemort.  Not banish, Harry corrected himself.  Dumbledore wasn't sure if Bene Omnia Vincit would vanish Voldemort completely.  It was just a protective measure for Hogwarts at this point.

But Harry wished he knew what Dumbledore's research was concluding, wished he knew what his role in the spell would involve.  It seemed as though Harry was constantly stumbling into situations where the people surrounding him seemed to know something he didn't.  And the worst part about that was, it always involved himself.  

These were his thoughts as he swam in the crystal clear water of the lake one warm September morning.  He usually awoke earlier than everyone else as his nightmares didn't allow much for sleep.  Up until a week ago, he'd spent his time sitting by the common room fire and waiting until everyone else came down.  Then last week, Harry had looked out the window and seen the sparkling surface of the lake practically beckoning him. When he awoke early now, the unsettled feelings about whatever he'd been dreaming or if he was to hear from Dumbledore that day were overcome by his desire to feel the cool water of the lake.  

Ron and Hermione had met him outside right before breakfast a few times.  They didn't ask why he was out there and they didn't ask if he wanted company while he swam- they already knew.  

That morning, Harry began to take laps, treading long, fast strokes, swimming as far out as he felt comfortable and back again.  It felt extremely good not to think for a while and just focus on his limbs cutting through the smooth water.  After he had worked himself to the point of exhaustion, he hoisted himself onto he boulders and, sopping wet, clambered onto the fresh grass, his hands on his knees, his breathing heavy.  Harry raised his eyes as he toweled himself off and found himself watching the massive form of Hagrid approaching him from across the grounds.  

"All righ', there, Harry?" came the familiar voice.

"Hey, Hagrid," Harry panted, still trying to catch his breath.  "We were going to come and see you later today."

"Well, I's wonderin' when yeh would!" Hagrid growled, but then he grinned and ruffled Harry's wet hair with one of his massive hands.  "Good ter see yeh, mate. Been doin' alrigh'?"

"Eh," Harry shrugged, and pulled on his dressing gown over his swimming trunks. He squinted up into Hagrid's whiskery face, the sun hard on his eyes.  "Okay, I guess."  

Hagrid nodded, his eyes on Harry's.  "Got time fer a cuppa before yer firs' class?"

"Yeah, sure."

Inside the tiny cabin, Harry sat down on the sofa and listened to the habitual sound of Hagrid making tea.  Harry felt himself drying off from the fire blazing in the small fireplace as Hagrid placed a tray piled with a kettle of tea, two cups and a plate of biscuits. 

"Did yeh 'ave a nice birthday, Harry?" Hagrid asked him, as he sat down in his huge armchair.

Harry nodded and told Hagird about his birthday at the Burrow and at once they got to talking about Harry's summer, the things he and Ron and the Weasley's had done.  They talked for almost an hour before Harry realized he was late for Charms.  Thanking Hagrid, he ran across the grounds and up the steps into the castle, not even realizing that Voldemort's name hadn't come up once.  

To Be Continued…

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	7. A Muggle Halloween

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca **mailto:Casccara@yahoo.com**

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet 

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  We are not making any profit on these fics - just having fun. :) We will be forever grateful to Ms. Rowling for providing us with this veritable playground for our imaginations. 

**Author's note**: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Two side notes—I don't remember who it was, if it was ever mentioned, that teaches Muggle Studies.  So, pretend it's Sinistra. ;) 

Also, "Anne Bolyn had six fingers!" line comes from one of my favorite movies, Steel Magnolia's.  Let's hear it for Olympia Dukakis!

Chapter Seven

A Muggle Halloween

            Ginny propped her chin on her hand in class one October afternoon, only half listening to Professor Sinistra's voice and letting her mind wander. She flipped through her Muggle Studies book and looked at a picture of a rather exuberantly dressed man and woman.  The woman was wearing a long, flowing ball gown in soft shades of blue and the man was wearing an old-fashioned type outfit that looked rather royal looking.  The woman's golden hair was piled high on her head and her feet were adorned with shoes that were crystal clear.  Ginny thought they looked to be made of pure glass.  

            She sighed softly and stared dreamily at the picture and the happy couple.  The man had dark hair and was grinning widely, every so often pulling the woman's hand up for a kiss.  At once, Ginny was picturing another face on the man's body and the woman's face became her own.  She imagined Harry pulling her hand up to his lips.  She would smile shyly as the woman in the picture did and he would grin at her.    

            "Miss. Weasley, would you like to read the next passage aloud, please?" came Professor Sinistra's voice.

            Ginny's head snapped up and she stared in horror at Professor Sinistra.  She had no idea what the next passage was, her daydream had sent her into such a stupor, she didn't even know what page they were on. Fortunately Colin Creevey was sitting next to her and he pointed discreetly to the correct paragraph. Ginny cleared her throat and read in a loud, clear voice:

_"A Muggle Celebration of Halloween.  Hallowe'en (October 31) and its associations with witches and ghosts derives from the Celtic Old Year's Night – the night of all witches, when spirits were said to walk the earth. To celebrate Hallowe'en, muggle children dress up in ghoulish costumes, carrying Hallowe'en lanterns – turnips hollowed out with a ghostly face cut into one side, which glows when a candle is placed inside. In recent years the custom of 'trick or treating' has gained in popularity. Although this practice is commonly associated with the United States, it actually originated in England as 'Mischief Night' when children declared one night of unpunished pranks."_

Sinistra beamed.  "Very nice reading, Miss. Weasley, take five points for Gryffindor."

Ginny and Colin exchanged amused looks as the Professor continued.  "If you look at your books, you'll see some photographs of people dressed in Halloween costumes.  Some children down there as witches-"  There was lots of giggling from the class at the depiction of the Halloween witch.

"Why do they have green faces?" Ginny's friend, Sarah Murphy asked, laughing.  "Do they really think we look like that?"

Everyone, including Sinistra laughed.  "Well, actually this particular witch is from a very popular muggle film called the Wizard of Oz.  And the picture at the bottom of the page, the couple in the 17th century outfits are costumes from the famous muggle fairy tale Cinderella.  That's Cinderella and her prince."

A few of the girls sighed softly, no doubt wishing they could wear the beautiful dress Cinderella wore; many of the boys snickered loudly, obviously at the prince's flamboyant costume.  

A Ravenclaw girl spoke up.  "So every Halloween, muggles dress up as different people and . . . monsters and things?"

"That's right," Sinistra said.

"Off the mark, muggles," a Slytherin boy said disdainfully.  "Dressing up like fools each year and prancing around for everyone to see."

"It sounds like fun to me," Ginny spoke up.

"Me, too," several people chimed.  

Professor Sinistra smiled at their enthusiasm.  "What kind of costumes would you all wear if you were muggles?" she asked and everyone started talking and laughing at once.

"I would be the muggle version of a ghost," said a very cute Ravenclaw boy loudly over the noise and holding up his book to a new page which depicted a young child covered in a white bed sheet with round holes for eyes.  "Get a look at this! Some ghost, eh?"

Everyone roared with laughter at the costume and Ginny spoke up suddenly.

"Professor, weren't you muggle-born?  What kind of costumes did you used to dress up in?"

Professor Sinistra smiled.  "Well, let me think.  One year I was a black cat, another year I was a rock star-" everyone chuckled- "and yes, of course, one year I was a green-faced, black-toothed witch."

Ginny laughed along with the rest of the class.

"We should have a muggle Halloween at Hogwarts," Sarah Murphy spoke up.  "We could all dress in costumes-"

"And go around the school trick or treating-"

"Listen to this, listen to this!" an excited Hufflepuff girl spoke up and began reading from her textbook.  " _'Muggle Hallowe'en parties include games such as apple bobbing, where apples are either floated in water or hung by a string. The object of the game is for the players to put their hands behind their back and try to grab an apple with only their teeth!' _I say we make all the professors do this 'apple bobbing'."

Everyone howled with laughter, including Sinistra.  Ginny couldn't catch her breath for a moment, picturing Dumbledore with his arms tied behind his back trying to bite a suspended apple which was swinging back and forth in front of him.  Colin must have had a similar mental picture because he turned to Ginny and they grinned at each other.            

Professor Sinistra sobered and she looked all around the classroom with interest on her face.  "You know," she said thoughtfully.  "_Some_ of your ideas- some, not all- may not be that bad.  If we made this a class project, would you all be interested in putting together something along the lines of a muggle Halloween?  I could talk to Professor Dumbledore and present the idea to him."

There was a loud chorus of excited talking and in the end, Professor Sinistra gave them a homework assignment that included coming up with ideas for a Muggle Halloween.  

            **_~*~_**

Later on at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, Ginny sat across from Hermione and told her all about the class's ideas for a Muggle Halloween.  Hermione was beside herself with excitement and together they came up with fabulous ideas for Ginny's homework.

"In my school, we had a costume contest every year," Hermione said excitedly.  "There was one winner and two runner's-up for best costume.  We could have a contest and whoever wins, could get points for their house!"

"Hermione, that's brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed, writing furiously.  

"Eh, Ginny, don't encourage her," Ron said, suddenly appearing with Harry.  The two of them took seats, Ron next to Hermione, Harry next to him.  Ron reach out to toy with Hermione's hair.  "Her head is already too big to begin with," he joked and Hermione swatted his hand away impatiently.

"Let me think of what else . . ." Hermione mused, buttering her bread.

Ginny checked her list. "So far I have the whole costume thing but that goes without saying.  That "trick or treat" idea was great, and the contest is wonderful."

"What are you two up to?" Ron asked them.  

Ginny told them about her Muggle Studies class and all the ideas she and Hermione came up with.  Both girls looked expectantly at Harry and Ron to see what they thought of the idea.  However, Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at each other, said "that's stupid," in unison and started piling their plates with food.

Ginny made a disgusted noise and muttered, "boys."  

"And what is wrong with the idea?" Hermione asked them, peering down her nose at them as Professor McGonagall would.

"Hermione, Halloween's for kids," Harry said, heaping potatoes onto his plate. "When's the last time you dressed up and went trick or treating?"

Hermione looked outraged.  "If I still lived in the muggle world during the school year, I _would_ go trick or treating."

Harry laughed at her.

"What's 'trick and treating'?" Ron asked.

But Hermione was making her point to Harry.  "It's not for kids, everyone does it! You'll see, this Halloween will be the best Halloween the school has ever seen-"

"I don't know if it's for sure yet," Ginny put in, completely distracted by Harry shaking with laughter across the table from her.  She couldn't help the grin that kept tugging on her mouth at the sight of him.  "I mean Professor Sinistra has to run it by Dumbledore and everything-"

"Hey, Ginny, guess what?"

They all looked up to see Colin Creevey sitting down in the chair next to Ginny. Right on cue in accordance to their conversation, Collin said with a grin, "I just saw Professor Sinistra and she told me that Dumbledore loved the idea of our Muggle Halloween!"

Ginny settled back in her chair and immediately began thinking about what her costume could look like; Hermione looked completely triumphant as if the entire thing had been her idea; Ron and Harry rolled their eyes again and muttered, "I'm not dressing up."

**_~*~_**

The Muggle Halloween Feast quickly became the excitement of the entire school.  Ginny's class began putting together a spectacular event which included Apple Bobbing but with a magical twist, (the apples were bewitched to bite back) Trick Or Treating Hogwarts Style, (each classroom would offer candy themed to their respective subject—everyone agreed to stay away from Snape's dungeon, he may poison them) and the Costume Contest (Dumbledore himself volunteered to provide the prizes).  There were waiting lists in the library for Muggle Costume books, but Hermione had her own way of researching her costume.

"It's quite obvious, really," she told Ginny as they met by the Fat Lady after their last class.  They'd planned to go to the library to research their costumes.  "Muggle history books have just as many visuals for famous Muggles than those silly costumes books."

But Ginny sighed.  She was actually quite perturbed by a conversation she had just witnessed.  Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had been talking about the great costumes they had bought in Hogsmeade last weekend and when Lavender told Parvati how much her costume had cost, Ginny had almost gasped out loud.  There would be no way she could pay anything for a costume, much less even come close to the sum Lavender had paid.

When she voiced her thoughts to Hermione as they sat down at an empty table in the library, Hermione looked up at Ginny, shocked.  "What kind of fun would it be to _buy_ our costumes?  Mum and I used to make my costumes, or rather Mum would make them and I would just watch or hand her the thread, things like that. It was some of the most fun I've ever had! Oooh! Ginny look," Hermione said, showing Ginny a picture of a woman in a long green dress with loose sleeves.

"Who is that?" Ginny asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Guinevere," Hermione told her and launched into a story about a knight called Lancelot, a King and Lady Guinevere.  They browsed the muggle history books, stopping every so often to admired a particular dress. 

When Ginny turned a page in a French storybook, her mouth dropped open.  "Oooh.  Hermione, look."  

Hermione peered over her shoulder.  "Esmerelda.  She was a gypsy."

"A gypsy?  What's a gypsy?"

"Um, like a dancer, in those times.  Actually gypsy's have a few different meanings.  Some gypsy's are said to be able to read the stars, some are good luck, some are thieves."

Ginny choked on a laugh, staring at the picture.  The kind of beauty this woman had was exotic and carefree, the kind of beauty Ginny herself most certainly did not possess.  Ginny knew she wasn't completely ugly, but her freckles and shocking red hair were quite annoying at times.  Her looks were common, yet different and _not_ in a good way.

"Why don't you be a gypsy, Ginny?" Hermione asked, glancing at her.

Ginny shook her head.  "I couldn't.  I mean, I couldn't possibly look that beautiful-" 

Now she had Hermione's full attention.  "Nonsense!  Ginny Weasley you are a very, very beautiful girl.  All you would need is some bright red lipstick and some black kohl around your eyes.  We can curl your hair just like Esmerelda's, look, you and she have about the same length, and then we can-"

"We can stop dreaming," Ginny laughed.  "Because I will never be able to afford a dress like that."

Hermione tutted.  "Ginny, are we witches or aren't we?"

A very womanly smile dawned on Ginny's face as she lifted her eyes to meet Hermione's.  They both let out excited giggles and Ginny grabbed another book.  "Okay, what about your costume?"

**_~*~_**

Halloween arrived with an air of enthusiasm.  After classes, everyone scrambled back to their dorms to start preparing their costumes for the feast.  Ginny had already arranged her costume, with much help from Hermione.  The two girls had made their own costumes from scratch and Ginny had to admit that it worked out wonderfully.  Professor Sinistra had gotten a hold of some beautiful fabrics and made them available to all students who wanted to make their own costumes.  Ginny and Hermione picked out the ones that suited their costumes and got started a week before Halloween.  

Ginny had used the picture of Esmerelda from the storybook and tried to follow it as best as she could.  She made a few allowances however when considering the neckline and hem of the dress.  Esmerelda left much of her body bare and Ginny was in no desire to do any such thing.  Hermione had transfigured some ordinary buttons into shimmery beads and used a witty stringing charm to make long chains from the beads, which Ginny was going to hang around her neck and on her wrists.  She wore her hair down, but Hermione had used her wand to turn the wavy tresses into tight curls that hung past her shoulders.  Ginny applied her own makeup, using a deep, deep red lipstick she had borrowed from a girl in her dorm, and lots of black kohl on her eyes as Hermione had suggested.  

When Ginny stood back and looked at herself in the mirror, she gasped.  Gone was the plain girl with lots of freckles and simple hairstyle.  Looking back was a woman who was quite beautiful and… a little sexy.  Ginny blushed just thinking about it, but she did, in fact, look very mature in the deep turquoise dress, her hair unruly, her face vibrant and dramatic.  It felt rather… thrilling.  

Ginny's mind, as it so often did, traveled to Harry and little shivers raced down her spine.  Perhaps he might notice her tonight, while looking different than usual, more pretty than usual?  _Ugh!_  Force of habit shoved the thought quite severely to the back of her mind.  Harry wouldn't notice her tonight-- just like all the times she thought he might look her way and never did.  

_Put it out of your mind, Virginia Weasley_, she scolded herself, _and keep it out._  

Thinking only of herself and not of Harry, Ginny went to join her friends.

**~*~**

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at each other from their beds and tried not to let out  identical snorts of laughter.  Harry was lying on his four-poster, his arms under his head, having a rest before the Halloween Feast; Ron, across the room, was doing the same.  The other Gryffindor seventh year boys, however, were not relaxing.  They were acting like girls, in Harry's opinion, running around getting their costumes together, laughing hysterically.  

Harry couldn't believe they were getting into this.  Seamus was looking like a complete dunderhead in an old fashioned costume with puffed sleeves and short pants.  Neville was wrapped up in some sort of gauze from head to toe (a poor version of a mummy) and one of the long strips was hanging loose on the bottom of his foot causing him to trip every two seconds.  Dean looked like a puppet version of Count Dracula.  

But nevertheless, all three of them seemed happy and excited about the Feast.

"You two coming down, then?" Dean asked them as the three boys headed for the door.

Ron stretched lazily.  "We'll be down in a few."

Harry stared up at his curtains, wishing he could stay where he was… doing nothing all night or maybe having a game of chess.

"I guess we ought to go down," Ron said after a few minutes, in a tone that suggested they were attending a funeral and  Harry could tell that chess would be more appealing to Ron as well.  

"I guess. You know we're going to look the fools now.  Everyone has costumes and we don't."

Ron sighed.  "You're right, you know.  I wonder what's gotten into everybody, it's not like it's fun to dress up as some stupid thing you'd never even want to look at."

Harry agreed and they stayed where they were for a few minutes more.

Then Ron said hesitantly, "You know… perhaps we could throw something together before we go down.  You know, just so we don't look like the only prats who didn't dress up."

Harry frowned.  "What, though?" Then, as Ron sat up and jammed his Chudley Cannon's hat on his head, Harry had an idea.  "I could be a Chudley Cannon's Quidditch player.  Can I borrow your hat?"

Ron took off his hat and looked at it.  "You have your own hat, remember?"  Then he looked up at Harry, his eyes rather surprised at himself.  "I've got an idea.  You'll be me and I'll be you!"

"Huh?" Harry blurted out.

"Here," Ron tossed him the hat and rummaged through his trunk, pulling out a maroon sweater that had a big letter 'R' on in.  He hurled that to Harry as well.  "You'll be me, I'll be you. Give me your glasses."

Harry raised a brow.  "Not a bad idea.  Okay, but I have to warn you, they may blind you." He walked over to Ron, handed him the glasses and tripped over Neville's shoe with the absence of his perfect vision.  

"Whoa," Ron said after he put the glasses on and he looked around the room.  "This is cool."

Harry tugged the sweater over his head and watched Ron draw a careful lightning bolt over his eye with a quill.  He turned to Harry and raised a brow.  "You think?"

Harry peered at the drawn scar. "It's kind of big.  It looks twice the size of mine."

"Eh, so what?  Find your 'H' sweater for me. Oh, and I'll wear my pointed hat so that my hair is covered up.  The orange look will throw people off."

They casually pulled together their costumes and fifteen minutes later were heading down to the feast, Ron lifting the glasses off his nose to be able to see, and Harry almost smashing into Fat Lady's portrait after it had swung open.

Harry and Ron found their way to the Great Hall with no real injury.  When they entered the bright room, it was hard not to admire what they saw.  The Halloween decorations were vast and bright, even more so than usual. Everything seemed to be made of orange and black with round Jack-O-Lanterns hanging from the ceiling, sparkling spider webs suspended over the entire room, countless black candles in all sizes and shapes floating over all the tables.  Rather than sitting down at the tables, people were milling about, looking at everyone's costumes and mingling as if it were a Ball instead of a banquet.

Ron nudged Harry.  He turned to see Hermione rushing over to them and they both stared at her, trying to figure out what exactly she was.  She had on a very exuberant gown with a skirt puffing out very widely and huge ruffled sleeves; her hair was covered with some sort of lace veil that hung all the way down to her feet.  

"Harry," Ron said in a sudden panic, peering over Harry's glasses.  "Who is she supposed to be?"

Harry shook his head, unable to see clearly enough to even guess.  He imagined that even with his glasses on, he wouldn't have more luck.

Hermione, at last, reached them.  And stopped dead in her tracks. 

Harry and Ron suddenly grinned at her.  "Guess who we are."

It appeared to be Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, because she did and then gaped at them for a whole minute.  "You couldn't have come up with something better than that?" she demanded.

"Hermione," Ron choked.  "What are you supposed to be?"

"Me?  Isn't it obvious?" She made a little turn and Harry grabbed his glasses off of Ron's nose to look at her.  He'd been right, no such luck.  He handed the glasses back to Ron.

"Um… a nun?" Ron asked, sliding the glasses up his nose.

"No," she sighed furiously.  "Fine, I'll tell you, but I'll have you know, you both are pathetic!  I'm Anne Boleyn!"

"Who?" Harry and Ron asked.

"Anne Boleyn!  The second wife of Henry the VII."  They still looked totally blank, so Hermione continued.  "Oh, honestly, her story is such a fascinating one, she was beheaded for-"

"Can't we sit down, already?" Ron said loudly, making her frown.  

But Harry was staring across the room, not hearing a word Hermione and Ron were saying.  There was a girl over there, and even though he could barely see her, he knew she was the most attractive girl Harry had ever seen. He felt a dull flush rise on his cheeks.  He watched her flip long red curls over her shoulder and a hot ball lodged itself in his stomach.  He didn't know of any student who had long red hair like that.  And as if in slow motion, Harry saw the girl turn his way.  He squinted, but still couldn't make out her face.  

Then she waved.   

The hot ball in the pit of his stomach dissolved into a hundred tiny worms that writhed inside him.  He knew that wave.  How many times had he seen that wave? Never, he thought fiercely to himself, never had he seen that wave coming from a girl who looked like that.  Only from Ginny.  Just Ginny, _little_ Ginny.  That was not Ginny; it couldn't be Ginny.  As the girl started to walk towards them, something very heavy fell from his chest into his stomach.  It was Ginny.

"Hey, everybody, what are you two supposed to…oh, my . . ." Ginny trailed off, staring at Ron and Harry with an incredulous expression on her radiant face.  "Well. Didn't put too much effort into it, now did you?" she asked, making a face.

Harry became aware that his mouth was hanging open and he closed it immediately.  He tried to look casual, but it was very difficult owing to the fact that warning bells were screaming in his head.

"Ginny!" Ron's harsh voice brought Harry slightly out of his stupor. Obviously, Harry wasn't the only one who thought that Ginny was dressed rather…differently.

She looked surprised.  "What?"

Harry saw her chin go up and her stubborn eyes flicker nervously.  That little glimpse of her underneath all the make-up, the simple, soft-spoken girl who was sometimes unsure of herself should have stopped the pounding of Harry's heart against his ribs, but it didn't.  

Ron must have seen her hesitate as well, something Ginny rarely did anymore.  So Ron forced a grin and told Ginny that she looked very pretty.

Ginny smiled and Harry suddenly had the crazy urge to run far away from her.

When it was time for the feast, everyone sat down and began helping themselves to the delicious foods and desserts.  Harry found that this meal was one of the most uncomfortable meals in his entire life and the worst part was, he had no idea why.  Ginny had sat directly across the table from him many times and never once had his eyes suffered magnetic forces as they did now.  He had to constrain them _not_ to watch Ginny laugh and talk with her friends, but focus on Ron's and Hermione's conversation.  

Hermione was bent on telling everyone all about Anne Boleyn since five people, including Professor McGonagall, had inquired what her costume was.  However, nobody seemed quite interested to hear about Anne Boleyn's decapitation, so Hermione talked only to Ron.  "Anne Boleyn had six fingers!" she announced to him very loudly, obviously hoping for others to hear her and become fascinated.

Several people turned to look at Hermione before rolling their eyes and returning to their conversations.  Ron, however, couldn't go back to any conversation; Hermione _was_ his conversation.  "What?" he said sourly, piling his plate with drumsticks.

"She had six fingers," Hermione said as if having six fingers would make most people go, "Hmm. Six fingers, interesting." 

"What happened to the other four?" Harry asked, afraid to know the answer.

"She had eleven total!"

Ron looked up, suddenly bad-tempered.  "Are you trying to confuse us, Hermione?"

"She had an extra finger?" Harry said, looking appalled.

"Uh-huh," Hermione said brightly, helping herself to bread pudding.  "Isn't that interesting?"

Harry thought that was a matter of opinion, but chose not to voice this.  Ron however, didn't have as much tact as Harry.

"It's disgusting that's what it is!  How did she get an extra finger?"

Hermione smiled and took a bite of ham.  "She was a witch.  None of the muggles knew this of course, but dear old Henry suspected it.  There is actually quite more to her beheading than what they say in those muggle history books, that's for sure."

"Ginny, who are you supposed to be?" Ron asked loudly, hoping to change the subject.

But Ginny was listening carefully to something Colin Creevey was telling her.  After a few seconds, both she and Colin erupted into laughter.  Harry kept his eyes on his blurry plate, but it was difficult.  Ginny's laughter seemed to be the only thing he could hear over the hundreds of voices in the Great Hall.  Harry suddenly pushed back from the table.  He needed to think about this and he needed to do it alone.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione demanded at once.  

"I'm tired, I'm going to go back to the dorm," he muttered and a dull flush rose on his face as he saw from the corner of his eye Ginny look away from Colin and focus her luminous eyes on Harry.  

Hermione was having none of it.  "Oh, no you don't, they still have to announce the contest winners, and don't you want to see who wins?"

"Naw, not really," he began, but turned as Dumbledore stood at the head table and everyone fell silent, Harry sat resignedly in his seat.  He knew Ginny would win, hands down.  Even without his glasses, Harry could tell her costume was probably the best in the hall.

Dumbledore, or rather Father Christmas, smiled merrily at all of them.  "I trust everyone is enjoying our Muggle Halloween Feast?"  He was met by tumultuous applause.  "It's thankful to Professor Sinistra's sixth year Muggles Studies course that the idea came about."  Ginny and Colin, along with the other sixth years in their class, applauded loudly for themselves.  "It is now the moment you have all been waiting for, time to announce the winners for the most inventive costumes!  The entire staff has polled their votes and the choices are as follows…  In third place, we have a tie.  Miss Lavender Brown for her portrayal of William Shakespeare's Juliet Capulet and Mr. Seamus Finnigan for his depiction of Romeo Montague!"  The applause was thunderous at the Gryffindor table.  "Ten points to Gryffindor for each of you and a small bag of tricks and treats will be delivered to your dorms later on. Very well done!  In second place, Mr. Justin Finch-Fletchley for his amazing replica of our very own Fat Friar! Twenty-five points to Hufflepuff and a much larger bag of tricks for you Mr. Finch-Fletchley!"

Harry glanced at Justin and had to shake his head with laughter.  He looked exactly like the Fat Friar; Harry wondered if he'd used an engorgement charm on his belly.  

"And now, the first place winner shall receive thirty points for their house and one pass to be used in place of one homework assignment!"  The Great Hall cheered at this prize and everyone leaned towards Dumbledore. Harry glanced at his watch and then at the doors.  He wondered if he could make a go for it right after the name was called.

"And it appears we have another tie!  The winners for first place are… Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in their representations of each other!"

_"What?!"_ Hermione and Ginny shrieked in horror.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, thunderstruck.

Hermione was beside herself.  "I don't believe it!  We spent hours on our costumes, didn't we, Ginny?  How long did you two spend, ten minutes?"

Ron looked outraged.  "How dare you! We spent hours and hours and _hours_-" 

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back for the second time that evening.  "I have some homework to finish, I'll see you later," he muttered to Ron, who handed Harry his glasses.  He could still hear Hermione's tutting as he walked the length of the table.  When he reached the doors that lead to the entrance hall, Harry felt that pull again on his eyes and this time he gave into it and turned to look at the Gryffindor table.  

Ginny was looking right at him, her eyes worried.  For the first time that night, Harry looked at her with proper vision and it did nothing to curb the feelings that were racing through him.  He saw a blush creep into her cheeks when he caught her watching him but she sent him a smile before returning to Colin.  

He needed to think about this and fast.

When he stepped into his dorm, Harry yanked Ron's hat off his head and flopped down on his bed.  He tried very hard to get his mind around the cause of these sudden feelings and he came to the conclusion that he didn't know what these feelings _were_.  Did he… _like _Ginny?  Just the thought of it made him shudder as if something were terribly wrong with the prospect.  It couldn't be… she just looked different tonight.  Harry had never noticed how pretty she was… no, she wasn't pretty, not like that.  That had been an illusion; girls could make themselves look different by painting on their faces.  He thought of Parvati and Lavender… when they attended school balls, their faces always looked painted up and brighter.  Harry had always secretly thought they looked quite foolish. 

Ginny never did that to herself…or did she?  Harry realized that he didn't know.  He'd never spent much time looking at her, really.  His mind fell back to his summer at the Burrow.  During his time at the Burrow, Harry _had_ noticed how mature she'd gotten. She wasn't shy and clumsy around him anymore, wasn't fascinated with him.  But it hadn't bothered him in the least, not like it was now.

Harry shook his head fiercely.  It was just Ginny, just Ron's little sister, growing up.  He was bound to have mixed feelings on the matter, wasn't he?  He'd known Ginny for years now, and seeing her grow up was bound to come as a shock to anyone.  Even Ron had been surprised by the way she looked tonight.  It was normal for Harry to feel these things about someone who was like his little sister.

_But she was never like your little sister_, a voice in his head told him.  That was silly, Harry thought. All the Weasley's were like family to him, Ginny included… right?  Harry stared at the curtains of his bed and forced himself to believe it.  _Right_.  It was just the costume, just her painted face that had made him feel this way.  Ginny was Ginny.  And he didn't …_like_ her.

To Be Continued…

The Hidden Tower

http://hiddentower.50megs.com


	8. A Voice From the Past

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through "Goblet"

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

**Author's note:** For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Eight

A Voice From the Past

Dear Tom,

I don't know what's going on, I think I'm in trouble.  Strange things are happening all over the school and I think I might be involved.  I'm so scared, I have nobody to talk to, nobody cares except Percy and I can't tell him.  Oh, I just want to go home and never come back here again.  What's happening, Tom, am I going crazy?

Ginny, of course you're not going crazy.  You're a good girl, you would never do anything wrong!  You're a good girl, Ginny, a good girl.  What are you, Ginny?

A good girl . . . but I think I'm not myself-

_What are you, Ginny??_

A- A good girl.****

That's right.  A good girl.  Now, Ginny be a good girl and do something for me.  Will you be a good girl and do something for Tom?

Um… sure, Tom. But-

That's a good girl!  You must remember this carefully, Ginny, word for word and do exactly as Tom tells you.  Okay?

Yes, Tom.

Go down into the dungeons, take the east corridor as far as you can.  You'll come to a hidden door that you can only see by the brown piece of stone at the bottom of the gray stone wall.  Understand that Ginny, the brown piece of stone.  Tap the brown stone with your wand and say _Alohomora!_  Do you understand, Ginny?  

Yes

After you open the door, walk down the passage until you find yourself in a large room. Walk twenty-eight steps into the room and you should be standing on a completely round piece of stone. Tap the stone with your wand, Ginny, and say _Alohomora!_ After you say that, I want you to write to me and tell me what you see, Ginny.  Do you understand, Ginny?

Yes, Tom, I understand

****

_Do you understand, Ginny?_

Yes, Tom, I understand

_I asked you a question, Ginny!_**DO YOU UNDERSTAND??**

"YES!" Ginny screamed, bolting upright in bed and gasping for air.  She let out a cry of panic and her eyes darted all around the room.  The diary… _where was the diary?_  

_It's gone_, a voice in her head shouted.  _It's gone._

"Gone," she whispered, grasping her covers.  "Gone."

"Ginny?"

Ginny's head snapped up and suddenly noticed that all four of her friends were sitting up in bed, their curtains drawn back, staring at her with apprehension on their faces.  "A dream," she managed to gasp.  "It was just a dream."

Unable to stay still, Ginny found herself throwing her covers off and getting out of bed.  She grabbed a pair of jeans and a thick wool sweater from her trunk and pulled them on, almost tripping over the gypsy costume she'd left on the floor after undressing only a few hours ago.  She grabbed her cloak, muttered something about getting fresh air and ran through the common room, along the deserted corridors, down several flights of stairs into the entrance hall and out the doors of the castle.  

It wasn't quite light outside yet, the sun was peeking out slightly and the fresh morning air was dewy and warm.  Ginny leaned down, pressed her hands to her knees and forced herself to breath deeply.  After her breathing became normal, she sat trembling on the cool stone steps and wrapped her arms tightly around her, slowly rocking herself into sanity.

The feeling that she was being controlled seeped through her veins like ice and Ginny wrapped her cloak around her tightly.  She tried to cry the fear away, but all the sobbing did was make her more exhausted and Ginny knew that whatever she did, she didn't want to sleep, not ever again.  For the briefest of moments this morning, she'd felt as she had five years ago… that vague, terrified feeling where she couldn't remember what she'd done or how she had gotten where she was.  

There was a shift in the gravel in front of her and Ginny's head snapped up.  Her heart positively sank into her stomach when she saw Harry standing at the bottom of the steps, his eyes wide with alarm. A violent humiliation had her eyes sliding closed.  To her absolute horror, Harry was taking a hesitant step toward her.

"Ginny?" he asked and the gentleness of his voice poured into her blood.

Ginny tried fervently to wipe the tears from her face, but her hands were shaking violently and she knew it wasn't doing any good.  "I'm okay," she said, her voice shivering.  "Really, I'm fine, you can… go on in."  

It was then that she looked at him and noticed that he was dressed in casual clothing, holding a towel and his hair was soaking wet.  His morning swim.  Ginny should have known, she'd watched him from the common room window enough times.  She hadn't been thinking this morning that anyone else would be outside.  She hadn't been thinking when Tom Riddle's voice had been screaming in her head.

Harry did indeed start walking up the steps, but as he got to the landing, he stopped and carefully sat down next to her.  Ginny closed her eyes again.  "Harry, I'm fine, really."  But he didn't seem to be convinced, or if he was, he didn't move.  "Go on in, go, I'm fine-"

"You don't have to pretend," he said very quietly.  He didn't look at her, but kept his gaze strait ahead.  "I know what it's like."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them thinking of Voldemort, two very different visions of him.

Ginny found herself speaking then, in a very hoarse voice. "I can never feel that way again. Never."

Harry was nodding; he seemed to know exactly what she was talking about.  "The diary?" 

Ginny nodded and Harry remained silent for a while.  "Did you… er, have another dream about it, then?"

"Yeah," Ginny whispered, her throat aching.  "First time since… back at the Burrow."

Harry nodded again.  "You can tell me," he said after awhile.  "…If you don't want to, that's okay, too. But… I understand."

Ginny thought she couldn't possibly tell him what was going on- the last thing she wanted to do was forced him to drudge up all of that.  But she found that not talking didn't help the tears go away.  In fact, she suddenly felt as though something toxic was clouding her vision and if she didn't talk about it, she wouldn't be able to function. 

She pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes and spoke in a very small voice, as if she would do anything to curb her humiliation.  "I don't really remember the details.  I never do, at least I think I don't.  I think I forget about them after a few minutes of being awake.  But the feelings are always there, the same feelings.  Being controlled … being scared… not knowing what to do…" She squeezed her eyes shut against the well of tears.  "He's talking to me in the diary, telling me things to do.  And I have no control over what I'm writing, what I'm doing-"  

Suddenly she sat strait up. "The dungeons."

Harry turned to stare at her.  "What?"

Ginny tried with all her might to remember, but the images were as blurry as the sun in the distance. "The dungeons.  He made me go into the dungeons into some secret passage thing.  I never remembered that until now." Ginny turned to look at Harry in horror.    

"Are you sure?" he asked her sharply and Ginny suddenly felt nauseas.

"Yes," she said weekly.  "I remember it.  And now I remember being there, like it was a different life or something.  I was down in the dungeons alone and I remember walking and walking and it was dark, but there were torches that I had to light-" she broke off and clasped a hand to her mouth.  "Why am I remembering this now? What was I doing, what was he making me do?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly.  "I don't know.  But it's over now, and you're fine."

"Yes, but, Harry, I never remembered that. Why am I suddenly remembering?"

"Because it doesn't just go away," Harry said. Ginny saw the haunted look that was ever present in his eyes deepen.  "I still have dreams about … about… the night my parents died.  Figured that would have gone away by now… but it didn't." 

Feelings of pure rage filled Ginny to the very core as she turned to look past the cobblestone walkway, past the vast green grounds, trees and shrubbery, to beyond the clouds.  "I hate him," she said in a low, wrathful voice, her eyes welling with fresh tears.  "I hate what he's done."  Percy's face floated across her mind and Ginny closed her eyes as more tears fell.  She hugged herself tightly and drew her knees up to lay her head on them.  Beside her she heard Harry sigh softly and they both sat on the cold stone steps in the dewy morning air, as the sun inched its way over the lake. 

**_~*~_**

The day after Halloween was an abnormal day for Harry.  He awoke to the strange, uncomfortable feelings not unlike the ones he'd experienced at the Halloween Feast the night before.  They weren't as intense as they'd been the previous night, and perhaps they weren't the same feelings at all.  But a new unsettledness had begun to creep into the part of himself that Harry had deemed intact.  It wasn't fear of something that had to do with Voldemort or with the deeds that lie ahead.  Those things he had tried with all of his might to keep separate from his daily life, from his friends and classes… from any romantic feelings he'd ever had for anyone. Not that there had been anyone… except Cho Chang, but Harry hadn't really spoken to her in years- even when she was still at school.  After Cedric's death, Harry had found it very difficult to face her.  

What made these feelings so difficult was the fact that he had absolutely no idea where or when they had come about.  Never in all his life had he felt so uncomfortable around the presence of someone he had known for years.  Or _thought_ he'd known.  Harry suddenly realized that he could not truthfully claim to know Ginny Weasley at all.  Clearly he didn't know her with the absence of his glasses standing across the room. Evidently he didn't know her in some bright costume with her face all made up and her hair in long curls shining like rubies…

Harry rolled over in his bed, feeling suddenly nauseas.  He did NOT want these thoughts.  There was no way he could justify lying in his bed thinking about Ginny's hair.  She was Ron's _sister_. She was a Weasley, the daughter of the two people who had taken Harry into their home with open arms when he had no other.  He had no right, no _absolute_ _right_, to be feeling these things about their daughter.  He had to close his eyes as he pictured Fred's and George's faces if they could see Harry's thoughts. Or Bill. A sudden ball of dread dropped into his stomach as he pictured Bill, the protective older brother who had stopped Fred and George from tackling Ginny with a simple look.  And then, as Ron let out a sudden snore from the other side of the room, Harry's face began to burn.  If Ron had found out about these... irrational … _thoughts_ Harry was having over Ginny, Harry knew that it would be more than awkward, it would be downright mortifying.

Feeling as if he couldn't lie there and think about this anymore, Harry got up and gazed out the window.  The sun was peeking its way from beneath the lake and Harry pressed his hand to the window to feel how cold the weather was.  Satisfied that it was still warm enough for his swim, he rummaged through his trunk, found his things and prepared for his swim a bit earlier than usual.

The swim helped, it always did.  The shock of the cold water always cleared whatever plagued his mind, at least for the time being.  Harry hoisted himself out of the lake and dried off an hour later, earlier than he usually stopped, but then he had started earlier.  After pulling on his sweats over his swimming suit, and slinging the towel over his neck, Harry made his way up to the castle, feeling refreshed and somewhat better.

His eyes had been on the castle steps when Ginny had emerged.  He stopped when she burst from the heavy doors and he could see her bend down, trying to catch her breath.  The familiar panic raced through him: Was someone hurt?  Had there been another death?  What was happening?

But as Harry closed the distance between them, as he neared Ginny enough to see her face, he knew something new hadn't happened. He slowed his pace, almost coming to a halt, and the gravel beneath his feet shuffled slightly.  He saw her look up and Harry knew at once what had happened.  He was looking into the scared, pale face of someone who was reflecting on the past—not the present.

The picture of Ginny in that Halloween costume and all his feelings on the matter had flown out of Harry's mind when he'd seen her crying on the steps of the castle.  She was little Ginny again, the same young girl he'd seen lying unconscious in the Chamber, the same girl who he always remembered to be polite to because she had a crush on him.

And the need to make her hurt go away overwhelmed him… because he understood it. He understood everything and he wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all a girl who should be thinking about girl troubles and school projects and friends.  A sixteen-year-old girl should not be having memories of being possessed.

As they walked back up to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny's words kept replaying in Harry's head, everything she'd said about Tom Riddle making her go into the dungeons.  Harry wanted to know why, _why_ he had done that to her.  Hadn't it been enough that he'd taken her mind over and forced her to open the Chamber of Secrets?  What else had he been trying to accomplish?

"Wait," Ginny said, before they climbed the stairs to the dorms.  "Harry can I ask you a huge favor?"

Harry turned to her.  "Sure."  

Ginny hesitated.  "I know it's a terrible thing to ask you, but… would it be okay if you didn't mention this to Ron?  He'll get worried and tell Mum, and… I don't want to worry her… or Ron.  It's bad enough with Dad and Bill off fighting the Death Eaters… and Charlie still in Romania.  It's bad enough with everything else going on."

Harry nodded after a minute.  "I won't tell him."  

Ginny sighed with relief.  "Thank you," she whispered gratefully.  "I know how much it costs you to keep something from him."

After he finished changing into his robes, Harry waited for Ginny to come down from her own dorm.  She looked surprised to see him waiting for her.

"Shall we go down, then?" he asked her, trying not to squirm at the way she was staring at him.  Her face showed such naked shock that Harry had to frown.  Did she think it so odd that he wait for her to go to breakfast?  Then it occurred to him that he'd never done anything of the sort before. 

**_~*~ _**

Later on in the morning, Harry stared unseeingly at Professor Figg as she carefully drew something into the air with her wand to demonstrate to the class.  He was seated in the special Defense Against the Dark Arts class and found he didn't much need to pay attention.  The entire class was focusing on conjuring patronus's. This was in direct conjunction with the fact that there were a large number of Dementors currently at large. Azkaban had been broken into soon after the first Ministry invasion, making it the second largest episode in the chain of events that had marked Voldemort's return.  

Harry usually enjoyed most of his classes; they took his mind off of everything else.  However, this class was a terrible reminder that the prisoners who had once been locked in Azkaban were no longer locked up and that walking around Hogsmeade at night could lead to a meeting with one of the guards who had helped set them free.  

For once, however, Azkaban and the Dementors weren't on Harry's mind as he listened to Professor Figg explain the origins of the Patronus.  Harry was thinking of the conversation he'd had with Ginny on the steps of the castle.  He kept replaying the words in his mind, trying to make some sense out of them. _"He made me go into the dungeons into some secret passage thing."  _Harry rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses.  There was something off about that, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.  Ginny being possessed by the diary during Harry's second year at Hogwarts had explained a great deal of the horrible things that had been happening all over school, culminating in the revelation that she'd opened the Chamber of Secrets.  There had been no mention of a dungeon.  Could it be that it hadn't happened and it was only her subconscious drawing up these images?_ "I remember being there, like it was a different life or something.  I was down in the dungeons alone and I remember walking and walking and it was dark, but there were torches that I had to light."_

Harry believed her… there was no reason to doubt her.  Tom Riddle had hypnotized Ginny into venturing down in the dungeons; Harry made himself believe it no matter how sick he was at the thought.  He also knew that he hadn't given it the proper attention he should have.

When it was time for lunch, Harry muttered something to Ron and Hermione about going to the library, insisting he would meet them in Transfiguration later on.  They looked at him with the looks Harry was used to, a kind of reluctant apprehension.  Harry knew they were profusely worried that he might come to some awful death if they let him out of their sight but he also knew that they wanted to give him his space.  Harry felt a bit guilty for using this as a means to be alone, but he also knew that _they _knew they were a bit over-protective.

"See you in Transfiguration, then," Ron said and grabbed Hermione's hand to pull her down the corridor.  Ron was always the first one to give Harry his space, with little or no questions.  It never failed and Harry knew he could count on it.

Harry walked down the hall, wondering how he was going to even find Ginny.  He had no idea which class she had or where she'd be going after class.  When he spotted Colin Creevey coming out of Flitwick's room, he nodded to him. "Hey, Colin."

Colin glanced at Harry and grinned.  "Oh, hey, Harry, how's it going?" 

"Okay.  Hey, I was wondering if you knew where Ginny Weasley is this time of day?"

Colin peeked back into the classroom and jabbed his thumb towards the doorway.  "In there still."

"Hey, thanks."

"No problem.  See you around, Harry."

Harry nodded and stepped into Flitwick's half empty classroom. Ginny was cramming books, parchment and a quill into her bag, looking rather harassed and in a world of her own.  Her hair was falling out of her ponytail and her face was flushed.

"Hey, Ginny," he said, walking towards her.

She jumped, glanced up and sent her bag dropping to the floor, books tumbling out.  Her inkbottle crashed and sent ink splattering everywhere.  "Oh, _no_," she muttered and Harry bent down to help her retrieve all her things.

Professor Flitwick came bustling over to see what the fuss was.  "I'm sorry Professor," Ginny said miserably.  "I'll clean it all-"

"Not to worry, Miss. Weasley, no harm done!" Flitwick squeaked reassuringly and with a wave of his wand, the shattered pieces of her inkbottle flew back into their original bottle form and the floor was ink-free.

As Harry helped Ginny pile her books into her bag, he noticed that her hands were shaking.  "You okay?" 

Ginny rolled her eyes as she swung her bag over her shoulder and muttered, "It's been a bad morning."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about… your dream."

"I've been trying to forget it all morning and it _doesn't_ seem to be working," Ginny murmured angrily, pushing the hair out of her eyes.  

"I don't think you should forget it," Harry said slowly. Then he glanced at Flitwick who had retreated back to his desk.  "Come on," he muttered to Ginny.  They stepped out into the nearly deserted hall and Harry turned to her. "I think that we need to tell Dumbledore about the dream."

Ginny looked startled.  "What? Why?"

Harry shook his head.  "I don't know, I just feel like we should be telling someone about this."

"But if Dumbledore knows, he'll write to mum.  Harry, I don't want her to know-"

"But I'm not sure that it's the right thing to do, keeping it from your mum."

"She has enough to worry about."

"Don't you think she would want to know if her daughter were in trouble?" The minute Harry said the words, he regretted them. He watched Ginny's brown eyes widen.  "I didn't mean that," he said hurriedly.

"You think I'm going to do something again, something I can't control?" she asked weakly.  
            "No," he said quickly.  But Ginny's eyes were staring at him and Harry felt as those they could see right through him.  He sighed.  "Look, Ginny, I'm not comfortable keeping this quiet."

Ginny fixed her gaze to the side.  "I shouldn't have told you about it," she whispered angrily.  "I wish my nightmares didn't have to be public knowledge. They're my problem, not Mum's, not Dumbledore's, not yours.  Mine."

Harry hesitated.  "Ginny… I learned the hard way not to keep things like this to myself.  It's… just not safe now."

She sighed.  "You're right, of course," she said very quietly.  "Okay. I'll talk to Dumbledore. I'll go now."

"Maybe you should eat some lunch-"

"I'm not hungry," she cut him off and turned abruptly, heading in the direction of Dumbledore's office.  It was all Harry could do to keep up with her.

Ginny stopped suddenly and turned to him. "What are you doing?"

Harry halted, surprised.  "Going to Dumbledore. Aren't we?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed.  "I can go to him on my own, you don't have to come along."

"Oh." He broke off, suddenly uncomfortable.  

Ginny's chin suddenly snapped up and her eyes flashed stubbornly.  

"Are… you sure?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Yes," she said firmly.

"Okay," Harry said, suddenly aware that she was staring at him very suspiciously.  "Well…"

"Bye, then," Ginny said and started walking back.  Harry thought she might have placed a Speeding Charm on herself-- she was walking away from him so quickly.  He stood where he was for a moment, staring after her, then he turned, narrowed his own eyes in thought and walked the other way.

**_~*~_**

Ginny quickened her step down the long corridor and made a sharp turn to the right as she headed for Dumbledore's office.  She had no idea what had gotten into her back there with Harry.  But she'd be damned if she was going to stand there and watch Harry pity her just like her mother did, just like every single one of her brother's did.  It was more than she could handle.

She had always resented the fact that Harry had stronger bonds with practically every member of her family than with her. It would have been obvious that Harry would, somewhere down the line, take on the role of just another one of her big brothers.  But he hadn't.  Perhaps this was due to the fact that Harry and everyone else in her family knew of Ginny's mad crush on him.  And Ginny had always felt a little sad that Harry wasn't protective over her like her brothers were.

But Ginny hadn't counted on this. She never imagined that if or when he did in fact worry about her and care about her like a brother, she would want to pull every hair out of her head. She wasn't a baby.  She wasn't the same little girl who had been possessed by Tom Riddle five years ago.  And she'd be damned if Harry thought so.  

It had been bad enough to get over the fact that he had saved her life.  How completely and utterly mortifying to her eleven-year-old self to deal with the fact that Harry Potter, _her _Harry, had rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets.  Ginny had gotten over it through the years as she'd matured.  She'd come to the conclusion that Harry only thought of her as just another Weasley—the Weasley he knew the least.  And she'd been comforted by that, trying very hard not to let her humiliating problems anywhere near him.  

But that had all changed this morning.  

Ginny let out a frustrated sigh as she came to a halt in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office.  Why couldn't she have stayed in her bed this morning?  Why did she have to parade her feelings outside, for anyone to see? _Why_ hadn't she thought of his morning swim, she'd certainly sat in the common room window and watched him morning after morning.  

Well, that was all going to stop. It was far time she got over her ridiculous crush on him.  And it _was _ridiculous. After all, he was going to turn into her big brother any day, now that he was _worried_ about her.  Well, she wouldn't have that either.  She didn't need another brother; she had more than she knew what to do with.  And she didn't need Harry Potter as her protector-

"Miss. Weasley, what can I do for you?" came the pleasant voice of Albus Dumbledore behind her.

Ginny jumped and turned around. "Professor, I… er, I was wondering if I could have a word with you.  If you're not terribly busy, that is."

"Of course. I was just on my way back from lunch.  Have you had yours yet?"  

"Oh. No, sir, I wasn't hungry for lunch."

"Something's bothering you," Dumbledore's eyes met hers.  "Follow me."

Once inside Dumbledore's office, Ginny sat down in the chair he gestured to and watched Dumbledore take his seat behind his desk.  "What's on your mind, then?"

Ginny took a deep breath and told him all about the dreams, mentioning that she'd been having them over the summer.  She told him about the new memories of the dungeons and everything she could remember from the dream.

"I wanted to just forget about it, but Harry said that I should tell you.  He seems to think that they might… they might put me in danger of becoming controlled again."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and looked very thoughtful.  

"Do- do you think I may be in danger, Professor?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

Dumbledore sighed.  "No. Rest assured, Miss Weasley, I don't think that you are in any danger of becoming controlled again.  But I do have concern for these dreams.  You mentioned that there might be more to the dream than you remember?"

"Well, I know there is. I forget very quickly what was said in the dream after I am awake, but I know there must be more to them."

Dumbledore sighed again and nodded.  "I would like to ask you to try and do something the next time you have a dream, if you do have another.  I would like you to find a quill and write down everything you can remember from the dream, the moment you awaken. I understand that it will be tough to do this, as you may want to forget it very quickly.  However, it may prove to be useful."  

Ginny nodded. "I'll try."

"Thank you," he said, nodding and stood up.

Ginny stood as well.  "Professor, I wondered if there is any way to keep this from my parents."  

"Why would you like to keep it from them?"

Ginny looked down at her feet.  "I don't want to worry them.  They have enough to be concerned with right now."

Dumbledore spoke gently.  "Miss. Weasley, if you do not write to them, I will be forced to.  It shall sound much better, coming from you I suppose. They need to know."

She sighed and nodded. She'd figured this. "Okay. I'll write to them tonight." 

"Very well. Now I insist you go down and have some lunch."

Ginny nodded, planning to do no such thing.  "Thank you, Professor."**__**

That night in the common room, Ginny sat down in a chair the furthest away from the crowds and pulled a piece of parchment from her bag, furious at the thought of writing to them.  In the back of her head, she knew it was the sensible thing to do, but she hated adding to their worries.  

Curling her legs beneath her, Ginny had just begun to write when she heard the portrait swing open and the unmistakable voices of Harry, Ron and Hermione.  She sighed to herself and started writing, wanting to get it done so that she didn't have to converse with them. She just didn't want to be around Harry right then.

However, her attempts at looking busy did not work, for all three of them came over to where she was sitting and dropped down in chairs surrounding her.

"What's up, Ginny?" Ron asked her.  "What are you doing?"

She sighed again and didn't lift her eyes or quill from the parchment.  "Writing," she murmured.

"Writing what?"

"Ron," Hermione whispered and from the corner of her eyes, she saw Hermione give him a look that said it's none of your business.  

"What?" he asked irritably.  "All I asked was-"

"I'm writing a letter to mum and dad," she interrupted, not wanting to be the cause of a fight.  And because she felt his eyes on her, Ginny glanced up ever so slightly and met Harry's gaze.  She broke eye contact rather quickly and went back to her letter, but it broke her heart a little to feel his eyes still on her.  She didn't want to be rude to him-- she just didn't want his sympathy.  If Harry was going to start noticing her, Ginny didn't want it to be because of some bad dream or some problem she was having.  She wanted him to see her for no other reason than because he wanted to.

As she wrote and thought about Harry, it took a moment for her to realize that Ron was still speaking.  "… Let them know that I need a new Divination book? It's fallen apart again and it's no good trying to fix now.  Oh, and tell them to send a few of my comic books, will you?  Not too many, just as many as Errol can carry."

Ginny stifled the urge to grab her wand and curse her brother.  Instead, she replied in a very calm voice, "Why don't you write them a letter for yourself?  We can send them both together."

"Well, why should I if you're writing one? You can mention it, can't you?"

Ginny sighed again, thinking of the meaningless 'PS' she'd have to tack onto her emotional letter.  "I suppose."

"Good," Ron said, leaning back in his chair and looking pleased.

Wanting to wring his neck for being so stupid, Ginny didn't feel at all upset about the little white lie she was writing to her parents, informing them that Ron knew about the dream and was being very helpful.  

_Tap, tap, tap!_

Ginny jumped and turned towards the window for the source of the noise.  A huge white owl floated like a spirit next to her.  

"Hedwig." Harry jumped up and helped Ginny open the window.  Hedwig soared into the room and landed onto the armrest of Harry's chair.  

"Have you got something for me?" he asked her with affection, petting her gleaming white feathers. Ginny's lips curved slightly at the tone of his voice.  

Hedwig let out a squawk and nipped his wrist.  Harry untied the letter attached to her foot and to Ginny's surprise; Hedwig remained where she was, rubbing her head on Harry's shoulder as he opened the letter.

Ginny watched the contentment on his face disappear as he read the letter.  His green eyes turned intense and anxious as they scanned the letter.  Hermione and Ron sat up in their seats and leaned forward and Harry silently handed them the letter.  They read the words and looked up at Harry, three pairs of eyes exchanging the same knowing look.  

            But they didn't speak.  They stayed silent, communicating with looks, every so often glancing back at the letter.

At once, Ginny folded her un-finished letter and gathered her things.  Curbing the sudden ball of resentment that was burning in her chest, she sent them a casual smile.  "Good night, everyone."

            Hermione glanced up and sent her smile as well.  Ron continued reading the letter, his eyes devouring the words.  And Harry watched Ron intently, not having heard or noticed anything from Ginny. She walked up to her dorm, closed the door and threw her bag onto her bed angrily.  

She just couldn't win.

To Be Continued…

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	9. Family

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through "Goblet"

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

**Author's note:** For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Nine

Family

****

The next day was a free day, completely void of all classes.  But Harry wasn't joining the rest of his classmates as they all piled outside to enjoy the last of the nice weather before it became unbearably cold.  He was walking slowly down the long corridors of Hogwarts, making his way to the staff room where his presence had been requested yet again.  It seemed as if Harry's presence was required all over the school this year—first in Dumbledore's office and now in the staff room.

The note he'd gotten from the Head Master last night had sent Harry, Ron and Hermione into a conversation that had lasted well into this morning.  As with the note he'd received before, this one was very vague, requesting Harry to come to a meeting regarding the Bene Omnia Vincit spell.  There were some "discussions" that needed to take place regarding some "issues" that needed to be dealt with.  

With only one night to wonder what on earth this could be about, Harry now stood at the door to the staff room and paused, a hot swoop of dread coursing through him.  Suddenly, he didn't want to go through with it—he wanted to tell Dumbledore that there had to be another way to protect Hogwarts.  He knew, in his heart that there wasn't, knew that this was his duty, but knowing that didn't make it easy to deal with. It didn't make it any less terrifying.

He knocked on the door.  Sirius greeted him.  

"Harry," he said, clapping him on the back and studying him.  "How are you?"  

Harry shrugged, more relieved than anything to see his godfather.  "Okay, I guess."

Sirius nodded, his eyes still on Harry's.  "I wanted to send you a note to tell you I'd be here, but Dumbledore said he was going to contact you yesterday.  There was no time."        

"I'm glad you're here."

Sirius nodded shortly and Harry saw that his black eyes wore that restless look.  It wasn't blatant and Harry thought that anyone who had never seen it probably wouldn't be able to know.  But Harry had seen it, and even if had only been for a brief time he recognized it now.  

Last year, when Sirius' name had been cleared it had been one of the biggest reports in the wizarding world.  When Wormtail had been caught by Aurors, he'd been fed Veritaserum and had rightfully taken the responsibility for the murders everyone had believed Sirius had committed.  Harry couldn't remember ever feeling happier.  But his happiness had been short-ended when Dumbledore had stated that it was impossible for Harry to live with Sirius, for Sirius was also a target. 

They walked into the room and to Harry's shock; Dumbledore and Snape were not the only people who occupied the staff table.  Dumbledore was at the head of the table; next to him was Lupin and directly across the table, next to Snape, was Mr. Weasley.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said soberly and gestured to a chair. "Please have a seat."

Mr. Weasley and Lupin smiled at Harry and he nodded back.  Snape sat very still, his eyes unreadable and on Harry.  Harry ignored him and sat down next to Sirius who took the seat next to Lupin.

Mr. Weasley spoke. "Harry, I hope you don't mind that I'm here- Molly and I were concerned."

Harry shook his head quickly, feelings of gratitude racing through him. "Thanks," he said in an oddly constricted voice.

Dumbledore started to speak.  "The time has come to start training for the protective measures that I have been researching.  Hogwarts is not invincible anymore, Lord Voldemort had seized many dwellings that were said to be as safe as Hogwarts throughout the world, the most recent being Gringott's bank."

Harry looked up in shock even though nobody else took this as a surprise.

Dumbledore looked at Harry.  "Not Gringott's London, Harry, the branches in Germany, Ireland and Israel. It is true that the security of those branches did not approach the quality of protection that London and Egypt have, nevertheless, the capture of those locations was a deed that had been proclaimed unfeasible. Lord Voldemort has accomplished it."

Dumbledore heaved a huge sigh and continued.  "Onto the tasks at hand.  Harry, the reason for this meeting is to devise a method of how to go about training.  I am sure you are aware that in order to prepare for this, we need the presence of a dark force.  The obvious solution is using a dementor."

At this Harry sat up strait.  "Bring a dementor here?"

"No. We will not be training inside Hogwarts, there is a safe location we can reach where the curse will not affect anything.  My concern, Harry, is about the dementor. Remus had informed us that the level of your protection against the dementors is strong. Do you feel confident of this?"

Harry sat glanced at Lupin, but before he could say anything, Snape spoke.

"Headmaster, forgive me for intruding," he said, his black eyes falling on Harry and staying there.  "However, it matters not whether Potter is confident in his patronus.  There is no other way; it is essential to use the darkest force we can. Potter has to do this, whether he feels confident or not."

"He doesn't have to do anything," Sirius' voice was firm and sharp.  

"I disagree," Snape said coldly, fixing his eyes on Sirius now.

"I have every confidence that Harry can handle the dementors," Lupin stated.  "Harry?"

Harry thought about it. "I feel confident of my patronus," he said slowly. "But I'm not sure I… I'm not sure I can trust myself not to…" 

"Pass out," Lupin said quietly.  "That is something that we should consider." 

"May I make a suggestion?" Mr. Weasley asked.  "Perhaps you can start with something slightly less… consuming than a dementor.  Something that will ease him into the intensity?"

"We should not waste any more time than we already have," Snape said firmly.

But Dumbledore looked at Mr. Weasley.  "What do you suggest?"

Mr. Weasley leaned forward.  "Perhaps we can transfigure something into a dementor.  It will take the form of it and Harry will not have to feel the intensity of the dementor and simply have the physical form of it to take on at first."

"What about a boggart?" Harry asked, suddenly thinking back to his third year. "We used a boggart to teach me how to conjure the patronus."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, but Snape let out a derisive laugh.

"A boggart?  We are preparing to fight against the Dark Lord, not a first year defense class.  Headmaster, as I've told you before the concern here should be whether Potter will be able to contribute in banishing Lord Voldemort, not if he can handle what we use in place of him to train."

"He's seventeen years old," came the furious voice of Sirius.  "He's not a grown wizard who's accustomed to dealing with the Dark Arts, Severus."

Snape opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Mr. Weasley.

"There is only one issue with using the boggart.  Harry, will it still turn into a dementor for you?"

Harry stared at him then turned to look at Lupin. "I-I don't know.  I… have no way of knowing, do I?"

Lupin shook his head.  "However, I think that will be the proper way to go about the first session.  If the boggart does turn into Voldemort, then it shall be all the better, right?"

"I quite agree," Dumbledore said.

Snape looked furious, but said nothing.

"Harry?" Sirius asked, but his tone had turned gentle.

Harry thought about it.  He personally didn't feel like seeing a dementor or Voldemort and he felt an irrational laugh at the back of his throat when he thought of voicing this in those very words.  Ron's voice sounded through his head.  "They're both dumb gits, mate, how will you ever chose?"  Hermione's face swam in his mind.  "Harry, perhaps you can imagine the boggart-Voldemort had turned into your cousin Dudley.  That will most certainly make him more humorous, and therefore easy to defeat, don't you think?"

Ron and Hermione's voices faded in his head when Harry glanced up to see everyone thinking very hard, their eyes on him. "We can start with the boggart, I suppose. If that's okay."

"Then that's what we'll do," Dumbledore said with a final tone to his voice.  "If that's the case, then we can start strait away; we shall hold the first session here in the castle this week. We will use the eight-floor room down the west corridor, which I will have emptied.  It is large enough in there. Severus can you search the castle for a boggart tonight?  If you have no luck I will get in contact with the Aurors to have one brought here."  Dumbledore stood.  "It appears that everything shall begin moving forward.  Shall we all go down to dinner?"

Harry looked at Sirius suddenly.  "Will you stay?"

Harry saw a look he'd never seen before come into Sirius's eyes as his Godfather smiled.  It was something like nostalgia.  "Haven't eaten in the Great Hall in… well, it's been a few years."

"More than a few," Lupin commented dryly as he stood up.            

"That's nothing for _you_ to brag about," Sirius said to Lupin.  

Harry, Sirius, Mr. Weasley, Lupin and Dumbledore made their way into the Great Hall.  There were gasps in the crowd of students who recognized Sirius at once and then a collective sigh of relief as they remembered his innocence.  And after the relief came the excitement.  Harry could hear various comments as they made their way to the Gryffindor table.

_"Sirius Black, is here!"  _

_"Did you know he's Harry Potter's godfather?"_

_"He went to Azkaban all those years and he'd been innocent!"  
"My Dad always said he was innocent."_

Harry grinned at Sirius.  "How do you like being famous?" he asked him in a low voice.

"You be quiet," he muttered.

He spotted Ron and Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table and when they looked up, they grinned astonishingly and waved.

"If it isn't two of my favorite people," Sirius said, sitting down across from them.  Harry took a seat next to his godfather, an immense pride sweeping through him all of a sudden.  He had a member of his family sitting next to him in the midst of all the Gryffindors.  He forced himself to forget about boggarts and dementors and concentrate on making this meal with his godfather memorable.

"Hi, Sirius, how are you?" Hermione asked, smiling happily at him.

"I'm doing well, Hermione, and you?"

Hermione beamed.  "Very well."

Sirius glanced next to her at Ginny who was looking at Sirius almost shyly.  "Hello," he said politely.  

"Sirius, this is my sister, Ginny," Ron said.

"Nice to meet you," Ginny said, smiling.

"Ah, I should have know," Sirius smiled.  "You look like you dad."

Ginny's horrified look made everyone break into laughter.  

"Speaking of dad, why is he sitting at the head table?" Ron asked suddenly.

"_What?" _Ginny shrieked and squirmed in her seat to get a better look at the head table.  Then she let out a squeal of excitement and waved at him.

"He was at the meeting," Harry explained in an undertone.  

"How did it go?" Ron asked. 

"Everything is fine," Sirius stated firmly and changed the subject.  "Ron, pass me the bread pudding, I'm starving."  

Ginny eyes were darting back and forth between them.  Harry caught her eye and saw her cover up the hurt very quickly.  He let his eyes stay on hers however, and when she looked back at him, he gave her a small smile. It didn't take long for her to return it—her cheeks turned rosy and her eyes crinkled at the corners.  Harry felt his heartbeat quicken.

"He chooses to sit with the teachers and not his own children?" Ron was saying cantankerously. "How rude.  Wait till I tell mum."

"Don't you mean, 'wait until I tell _Ginny_ to tell mum in her next letter?' " Ginny asked him scathingly.

"Same thing." Ron yanked Ginny's hair and she slapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, if it isn't the apples of my eye," Mr. Weasley said wryly as he approached the table with Lupin in tow.  "What will your mother say when I tell her that the children were misbehaving?"

Ginny grinned happily and jumped up to give her father a hug.  "It was all Ron's fault, Dad." 

"Yes, of course, it was," Mr. Weasley said soothingly.

"Oh, swell," Ron said sarcastically.

"Why don't you sit with us, Dad?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, Arthur, Remus, join us… please?" Sirius added a slight pleading tone to his voice.

Harry grinned up at Sirius.  "Are we not suitable company for you?"

"No, don't know when I've had more stimulating conversations," he said, but his grin gave him away.

"Welcome to my life," Mr. Weasley said as he sat down next to Ginny after she'd made Colin move over one seat. Lupin joined Harry and Sirius on their side of the table.

The stimulating conversations ran from how Ron spilled his frog guts in Potions; Hermione's new book A Witches Guide to the Wives of Henry VII, Muggle King (Ron collapsed on the table and pretended to snore loudly); reliving Harry's birthday party from over the summer; funny stories about Mr. Weasley from the Weasley family holidays; and hilarious memories of Harry's dad, Sirius and Remus.  The Gryffindor table laughed and talked loudly, making such a scene, that people from other houses looked on enviously. 

Then everyone glanced up as an owl swept through the rafters of the Great Hall and flew strait for Dumbledore.  Harry and Ron started talking again, but Harry could feel Sirius's eyes still watching Dumbledore.  At the head table, Dumbledore stood quite suddenly and began walking down the aisle to the doors and at once, Sirius, Lupin and Mr. Weasley stood from their seats and followed him.  

Harry stared.  "What do you think…?" he started to ask, and then Hermione voiced the thing that suddenly crossed his mind as he stared at the head table.

"Where's Hagrid?"

Harry was out of his seat and sprinting down the hall in seconds, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, following him.  They met Sirius in the hall. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked him.

Sirius hesitated and then spoke in a hushed voice.  "I don't have all the details yet, however, there was a problem in Switzerland with some of the giants. Someone from the Ministry just sent word to Dumbledore. It appears that the ones who have joined forces with Voldemort are attacking the giants that Hagrid had convinced to stay away from him.  There's a stampede and it's causing serious destruction to some of the villages surrounding the mountains."

"What does that mean?" Ron demanded.  "Does Hagrid have to leave again?"

Harry suddenly felt very sick.  "I'm going to Hagrid's," he said and began walking out.

Sirius caught up with him and Ron and Hermione followed, Ron yelling at Ginny to stay put.  However, Ginny ran to catch up with them. "I will not, I want to know if Hagrid has to leave-"

Harry broke into a run at these words and raced across the grounds.  He could hear everyone running to catch up with him, but he didn't care.  His mind set, he took the steps to Hagrid's cabin three at a time and reached the porch in two strides.  He knocked before pushing the door open. Dumbledore and Hagrid were inside the small room, sitting on Hagrid's sofa, looking very grave indeed.

"Hagrid, don't go," he blurted out, not caring if he was out of line.   

Hagrid looked up at Harry, his eyes somber.  "Got ter, Harry."

Harry took a step inside and the others followed him into the room.  "No, you don't, you really don't have to.  Stay where it's safe, Hagrid."

"I got ter go, Harry." Hagrid met Harry's eyes again.  "Yeh understand tha' above anybody, I think."

Harry sighed angrily, not wanting this to be happening. He'd been having dinner with his family not moments before and now one of his family, one of the most important ones, he realized suddenly, was going away. For as much as Harry loved everyone at that table, Hagrid was different.  

Hagrid was separate.

Harry was grateful when Dumbledore stood and beckoned everyone from the house.  He heard the door close.

"When are you leaving?" he asked him quietly, still standing.  

"Tonigh'."

Harry sighed even more angrily than before.  "You shouldn't have to go."

"I don' got ter go, strictly speakin'," Hagrid said, his massive form standing up.  "Jus' like yeh don' got ter do wha' yer doin' ter figh' You-Know-Who. Dumbledore told me wha' yeh're doin' Harry. I ask myself, wha' would Harry do if it were him?  Would he go an' help deal with the giants?  Yeah, he would.  I'm just doin' no less than you would."

Harry felt a great pressure in his chest and Hagrid walked over to him.  "You make me proud, Harry.   Yeh be careful, yeh hear?  Hopefully, I'll be back before… before anythin' happens at Hogwarts.  Ar, hopefully, nothin' _will_ happen to Hogwarts, yeh know. Hopefully."

"You be careful, too, Hagrid."

"Arg," he groaned and slapped Harry on the back, sending him stumbling forward. "Always am. Let Fang out fer a walk and feed him an' everythin'? He likes yeh the best, Harry."

"Sure," Harry said, his voice unsteady.

Harry waited inside the cabin helping Hagrid clean up, pack things inside drawers and straiten what was messy. Dumbledore came back an hour later and told Hagrid it was time to go.  Ron, Hermione and Ginny were with him.  Harry watched Hermione hug Hagrid tightly around the waist and then Ron.  Hagrid turned to Ginny and she buried her face against him.  Harry suddenly realized that Ginny must be close to Hagrid as well--he'd never noticed.

Hagrid met Harry's eyes, took him by the scruff of his neck, and pulled him into a crushing embrace. Harry held on for a long time.  "Arg," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes as he pulled away from him.  "Enough of this, I'll be back before yeh know it. You four, stay with Fang fer a few minutes after I leave, alrigh'?"

"Sure, Hagrid," Hermione said in a shaky voice. 

Hagrid reached down to scratch Fang's ears then walked out the door.  Dumbledore turned to them.  "I'll send Sirius back to escort you up to the castle in a few minutes." Then he closed the door behind them.

They didn't know what to say to each other. Suddenly, Fang turned towards the door and began howling.  Harry went over and sank down onto the floor in front of the door.  "I know, boy." He muttered, petting Fang's coat.  "He'll be home soon."  They were silent until they heard Sirius' footsteps coming up Hagrid's path.

To Be Continued…

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The Hidden Tower


	10. Preparations

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Ten

Preparations

The weeks that followed Hagrid's departure brought upon a slew of bad news from the outside world.  Word came that a huge portion of Hogsmeade had suffered a massive attack by Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.  All the Gryffindor's had stared in horror at the pictures in the Daily Prophet, many of their favorite stores looking as though they were great ruins.  Honeydukes was a mountain of bricks and ash with colorful packages and brightly wrapped candy dotting the ground surrounding it.  There was an interview with a horrified Madame Rosmerta as she described her narrow escape when Death Eaters had swarmed the Three Broomsticks.  The Post Office looked to be nothing more than a colossal pile of black, smoking rubble upon which hundreds and hundreds of dead owls littered.  Harry had rushed up to the owlery to visit Hedwig in reassurance after he'd witnessed that photo.

Needless to say, the air inside Hogwarts was not as relaxed as it had been prior to this news.  The list of missing wizards and witches grew longer and longer so that Harry chose not to open the Daily Prophet anymore.   

Harry missed Hagrid.  It was like being back in fifth year, not knowing where he was or if he was safe, although Harry had been thoroughly relieved when he'd received an owl from him about a week after he'd left.  In the untidy note, Hagrid had told Harry that he was doing well, and that Madame Maxime had joined him as soon as he'd gotten word to her. Harry worried slightly that Hagrid had been too vague as to whether he'd had any luck with the giants, but Hermione reasoned that Hagrid's living conditions probably weren't so good and that it may be difficult for him to write anything at all, much less a huge detailed letter.  Harry had to agree.

He had received word that the training was to begin.  Snape and Lupin hadn't had any luck finding a boggart in the castle, so Dumbledore had sent for one.  It had taken about a week to arrive and Harry had been grateful for the delay, selfish as it was.  

Harry asked Ron and Hermione for their opinions on what the boggart might turn into for him, but neither of them had a clue.  Ron had confessed as they climbed into their four-posters one night that he couldn't see how it _wouldn't_ be Voldemort.  Harry secretly agreed, but tried not to focus all his energy thinking about Lord Voldemort appearing in the eight-floor classroom out of a wardrobe.   

With the chilled December weather, it was impossible for Harry to keep up with his morning swim.  Sometimes he walked around the corridors of the castle for a few hours before breakfast; other times he jogged across the grounds, Fang at his side.  Very seldom would he lay awake in bed, staring at the curtains, his mind turning around and around on thoughts such as what Hagrid was doing at that very moment or if their favorite waitress in The Three Broomsticks had survived the attack.  Harry never slept past sunrise and was usually awake to watch the fiery globe make its ascent over the lake.  

On the day the first training session was to take place, Harry made his way numbly down to breakfast, not having slept a wink.  He hadn't had the energy to get out of bed to go outside or to walk around Hogwarts, so he dressed very slowly, wanting desperately to crawl back into bed and have a sleep.  But he knew he wouldn't be able to nap, so it was no use either way.  Harry barely glanced in the mirror before descending the spiral steps into the common room.  

The common room was deserted of students except for a very few getting some homework done or in Harry's case unable to sleep.  He glanced at the sofa near the window, thinking that he could sit and relax while he waited for Ron or Hermione to come down.  But the window seat was occupied by Ginny.

She was already dressed in her robes, looking very refreshed with her hair pulled back and her legs curled beneath her.  She had that same sketchpad Harry had seen her using at the Burrow and she seemed to be drawing the view from the window.

Ignoring the fluttering in his stomach that accompanied looking at Ginny these days, Harry walked over to her. "Hey."  

Ginny looked up, her eyes absentminded for a second.  "Hi."

Harry nodded towards the drawing and sat down in a chair close by.  "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah," she sighed.  "I dunno what's wrong with me this year, usually Sarah has to drag me out of bed in order for me to make my lessons.  One summer Mum threatened to overturn my mattress when I slept until noon every day."   

Harry shook his head, thinking of Aunt Petunia pounding on the bedroom door to wake him up.  He'd take Mrs. Weasley overturning his mattress any day.  "Could be worse, I s'pose."

"I suppose," she sighed again and continued drawing.

Harry took a breath. "Um, er, you never told me how things went with Dumbledore a few weeks back."  

Ginny's pencil stilled on the drawing.  "Things went fine.  He made me write to Mum and Dad."

"I figured as much," Harry said.  "Sorry."

Ginny lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  "Not your fault, I knew it was the right thing to do." 

Harry glanced up at the curtness in Ginny's voice.  He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but the truth was he hadn't forgotten about her nightmare so quickly and had meant to find out what happened with Dumbledore much sooner.  However, Harry hadn't seen ample time to talk to her about it with training to think about and Hagrid's leaving.  When he did try to look for her, it always seemed that she was in the company of her friends or nowhere to be found.  It left him to think that it was rather strange, how little he knew about Ginny—what kind of classes she took, what she did in her spare time.  Harry wondered how he could know so little about a person he'd known for almost seven years.  However, he felt he needed to know what had happened with her talk with Dumbledore so he resigned himself to asking her. 

"Dumbledore said that it was okay, then?" Harry asked tentatively.

Ginny sighed very faintly, but continued drawing. "He told me that he didn't think I was doing things against my will.  If I have another, I'm supposed to write down what I remember as soon as I wake up."

"I s'pose that's a good idea," Harry said.

"I suppose."

After another silence, Hermione and Ron came down and the four of them sat down to breakfast and listened to the owls flutter into the Great Hall and everyone became busy opening their mail.  There was a distraction when a Hufflepuff girl got up from the table and fled the hall in tears, a letter clutched in her hand.  They watched a few other girls run after her, followed immediately by Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff House.  The poor girl had obviously just suffered at the hands of Voldemort. 

This type of occurrence wasn't rare, and talk in the hall rose again a few minutes later as everyone reluctantly got on with things.  Harry was contemplating his porridge, Ron and Hermione were talking in low voices, and Ginny was finishing up some homework. Seamus then engaged Harry in talk of Quidditch defense and they got into a half-hearted discussion.  Harry could feel Hermione and Ron glancing at him every few seconds and he knew that the training was on their minds as well.

Everyone in the hall looked up as Dumbledore stood at the head table and clapped his hands once.  "Ah, it's good to know that I can still achieve gaining your attention so easily," he said with a smile.  "It is my pleasure to announce that Hogwarts will be treated to another Winter Ball this year." There were scattered applause and a few cheers throughout the Hall.  "The Ball will take place on December eighteenth, just before your winter holiday from classes.  So if you are planning on going home, you will still be able to attend the gala.  Formal attire is required, of course.  I daresay I can trust all of you to look for attire in other forms than your costumes from this past Halloween Feast.  Thank you!"

Another Ball. Harry closed his eyes briefly and tried not to think about the disastrous Winter Ball's of the past.  In Harry's fifth year, after Voldemort's rebirth and after the Hogwarts Quidditch tournaments had to be canceled, Dumbledore had decided that a Winter Formal would be a wonderful way for everyone in the castle to forget about the problems of the outside world and relax.

However, to Harry a winter ball did not mean relaxation-- the furthest thing from it actually. He felt guilty to be dressing up in expensive robes, eating delicious food, dancing and laughing while Voldemort continually took over in the wizarding world.  Harry had thought that there wouldn't be a ball this year indefinitely owing to the attack on Hogsmeade. Obviously he'd been wrong and now the chore of finding a date and the torture of spending the entire night wishing he were somewhere else was suddenly upon him. 

When he'd been in fifth year, Harry had gone to ball without a date.  It had been fun enough, even if the entire night had been a constant reminder of Cho Chang, which in turn had reminded him of Cedric.  Last year, Harry had accepted an invitation from Anna Pegry, a Ravenclaw in his year. The only reason he'd accepted had been because he hadn't wanted Hermione to go into a fit of worry as she had during fifth year.  So he'd gone to the ball with Anna and Harry had to endure an entire evening of her eyes darting fascinatingly to his scar every three seconds. 

It was no wonder that he would rather spend the entire night serving detention with Filch, or taking on ten or twenty boggart-turned-Voldemorts.  He just didn't like the whole ordeal and what it stood for.  It made him angry, and it made him remember things that he would have to spend the rest of his life trying to forget.

So when Hermione voiced her shock that there was going to be a ball this year, Harry couldn't suppress his anger.

"I think it's stupid," he muttered, throwing his fork on his plate with a clatter that made Ginny jump.  "Really stupid." 

The group around went silent.  Harry was willing to bet that Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lavender and Parvati were exchanging shocked looks. He would also be willing to bet that Hermione was biting her bottom lip with her eyes full of concern and that Ron was pretending like nothing was going on, trying to encourage others to do the same without actually saying it.  

And Ginny's eyes were focused on his… he felt them.

"Hey, maybe it'll be fun," Ron said lightly after a few moments.  "You know, a night to forget everything that's going on and just… have fun." Ron locked eyes with Harry and told him in a single look that he understood, but it was no good throwing a tantrum in front of everyone.   

Harry took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Yeah. I guess your right."    

"So, we're going together, right?" Ron addressed Hermione as he swallowed a huge gulp of orange juice.

Hermione's eyes slid over to Ron and Harry couldn't help the smirk at his best friend's lack of cordiality.

"Sure," Hermione said on a sigh and then muttered to herself, "How can I resist such a flattering invitation?" Harry heard her and caught her eye.  Hermione grinned reluctantly at his smirk and Harry sent her a wink.  He glanced at Ginny but she wasn't looking at them.  Her eyes were focused unwaveringly on her homework and she was writing furiously. 

Harry's smile faltered slightly.

At that moment, many of the benches in the hall slid back and people began to walk out of the hall to get to their classes.  Harry's stomach gave a lurch and his heart sank as he looked at his watch.  It was time to go up to the eighth floor. 

Ron and Hermione were staring at him as he slid his chair back and dazedly got to his feet.  "I'll find you later," he mumbled to them.  He saw Ginny lift her head slightly and without looking up at him, she returned to her writing, her face completely unreadable.   

Harry made it up to the eighth floor in record time and before he knew it he was standing inside the large, spacious room with no windows, dusty desks and benches pushed to one side.  Sirius and Lupin were standing in the middle of the room talking.  

"Hey," Sirius said, when he saw Harry.  "Come on in, Harry; Dumbledore hasn't arrived up here yet."

"He's still at breakfast," Harry said, his voice cracking.  He cleared his throat then asked in a low voice, "Where's Snape?"

"He's on his way up, he's got the boggart," Lupin said.  

Harry nodded and wiped the palms of his hands on his robes. They were suddenly very sweaty.  

"Try and take it easy, Harry," Lupin said quietly.  "We're all here, and remember it's only a boggart, I know you can handle that." 

Harry nodded and thought of getting back to Ron and Hermione after this whole ordeal was over.  "Yeah. Third year stuff, piece of cake." 

Lupin smirked at him.  "Seems like yesterday to me, you know."

Harry half smiled.  "Yeah. I remember the first class you ever taught us… the boggart in that wardrobe.  You wouldn't let me fight it in class because you thought it would turn into Voldemort." 

"I was wrong."

Harry nodded.

"You were wrong?" Sirius muttered incredulously.

"It does happen occasionally," Lupin admitted mildly.

Harry smiled reluctantly.  "Was that your first time, then? Being wrong?"  

"Now, Harry, really," Lupin scolded lightly.  "Maybe the second time."

"I would have to say third or forth," Sirius corrected.

The door creaking open interrupted them, and Dumbledore and Snape walked inside the room, floating a large wooden box, which was rattling. 

Harry's stomach rolled slightly, but he forced himself to remember Lupin's words.  It was only a boggart, after all.  

Dumbledore turned to Harry.  "Hello, Harry.  How was your breakfast?"

"Okay," he said, smiling inwardly at Dumbledore's tone.  As if they were simply getting together to discuss the weather. 

Dumbledore waited until Snape had adjusted the large wooden crate. "Let us begin.  We need to first establish the protective shield in order for me to fully understand how this will work.  I have an idea of what kind of barriers will arise, but am not completely sure.  Harry, you've memorized the chant?"

Harry nodded, letting the words run through him once again.  

"Will the barriers arise even without a dark force?" Sirius questioned.

Lupin nodded for Dumbledore.  "The spell is a protective chant; it can be used anytime if our research is correct.  It's the factor of the necessary elements that will provide the curse strong enough to banish whatever the force."  
            Harry spoke his question slowly, trying to phrase it correctly. "So, anyone can chant this spell as a protective measure, but it will only destroy the thing if the proper elements are used?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "According to my research.  We will know more about this after we finish here. Harry, Severus, take your wands out please, and point them thus."

Dumbledore, Harry and Snape stood in a triangle and pointed their wands towards the center, their tips almost touching. Sirius and Lupin sat in the far corner of the room at a small marble table.

Dumbledore spoke quietly to Harry and Snape.  "The chant, then if you please.  Harry, you begin."

He took a shaky breath and spoke the words clearly.  

"_Bene omnia vincit, the power of goodness shall conquer all.  In the wake of evil's return, goodness shall prevail."  _

Snape joined him after the first mantra and then Dumbledore.  Their voices were loud, clear and strong.

Harry felt something like heat seep into him, but he still kept up the chant.  

"_Bene omnia vincit, the power of goodness shall conquer all.  In the wake of evil's return, goodness shall prevail."_  

His eyes remained on the center of the wands, and saw that his own was trembling slightly.  His wand hand felt warm and tingly and the sensations started to spread into his limbs.

They were speaking quicker now, the words blending into each other, their voices becoming low and hoarse.  Harry had no concept of time; every thought flew out of his head as he concentrated on something… he didn't know quite what it was.  

"_Bene omnia vincit, the power of goodness shall conquer all.  In the wake of evil's return, goodness shall prevail."_  

And then, without warning, from his own wand burst a shower of sparks which rose high above their heads into a beam of white light.  The light spread into the other two wands and seemed to crash through Harry's body.  He staggered, but kept up the chant, his wand now connected to the beam of light, which linked all three wands. Through the blinding light, he saw Snape's black eyes, narrowed and focused, and Dumbledore's bright eyes, sharp with intensity. 

Through the hum of the chant, which was now lower than a whisper from all three elements, Harry heard Lupin's voice, small and distant.  "Stop the chant."

Dumbledore stopped chanting at once, yanking his wand from the connection, and the light fell from its huge height and shot back into all three wands. Harry felt a quick, shocking jolt and he stumbled backwards again.

The room came into focus and he could see Snape's face shining with power, and Sirius in the background, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow.  Harry was shaking all over, not because he was frightened, but because he could feel the intense magic inside his very skin. Harry had felt something like this only once before when his wand had been connected with Voldemort's.  But at that time, it had been torture to keep his wand connected; this time, he had been drawn to the beam, to the light that connected the three wands.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were gleaming with elation.  

"Far greater than I had hoped," he croaked.  "Far greater than I had hoped."

Lupin looked at his watch.  "Thirty-eight minutes."

Harry stared at him. "What?  Th-that was thirty-eight minutes?"

Dumbledore looked pleased.  "We will try it again, and for double the time.  Remus, allow me the time after an hour has passed." Then he looked at Harry and Snape.  "Are we quite ready?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded.  If nearly forty minutes had passed before, Harry knew he could certainly handle an hour.  It had seemed like _four_ _minutes_ to him.

"Harry, begin please," Dumbledore said.

The hour was tallied and Harry thought it had been shorter than last time, although an immense fatigue began to course through him after Dumbledore broke the connection. He glanced at Snape who showed no sign of vulnerability and then at Dumbledore who looked tired but normal.  

"We will have a break while I read over Remus' accounts," Dumbledore said.

Harry glanced at Lupin who held out several pages of parchment, all covered in a scrawly penmanship.  Harry realized that Lupin must have been taking notes while they had been under the spell.

Walking over to a stone marble bench covered in a white cloth, Harry sat down and remained quiet, and after a minute, he felt Sirius sit down next to him. Harry breathed deeply, glad for the break.  

Dumbledore stood after reading through the notes carefully. "Okay, I would like to continue now, with the boggart.  Harry, do you need another minute?"

Harry felt Snape's eyes bore holes into him as if daring him to ask for another minute. "No," he said firmly and stood up.  "I'm ready."

"Good," Dumbledore said and Harry noticed that the Headmaster looked exhausted.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder before going back to the small table in the corner.  Lupin turned to Harry after adjusting the wooden crate slightly.  "Okay, Harry, if it takes the form of a Dementor, cast your patronus.  If it assumes the shape of Voldemort, simply use the Riddikulus Spell. Alright?"

Harry nodded, his mind set.  _Just a boggart, just a boggart_. The crate opened at Lupin's command.  

Harry stood where he was, suddenly paralyzed as he stared into the glowing red eyes and the pale face that haunted his sleep.  Lord Voldemort had emerged, black robes billowing, his wand raised and pointed at Harry.  Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, that high, piercing cold laugh and suddenly Harry was tied against a gravestone and Voldemort was running a long finger down his cheek.  He tried to break free and found himself stumbling backwards.

"Focus, Harry," came Lupin's sharp voice and at once the picture of the graveyard vanished from his mind and Harry was in the room on the eight floor and the boggart-Voldemort was advancing on him, wand raised.  

Harry clicked into action, focusing his mind and raising his own wand.  He watched Voldemort stumble and fall to his knees and Harry shouted, "_Riddikulus_!" The abnormality of Voldemort falling to the ground caused a crazed laughter to bubble up inside Harry's head and the boggart vanished with a _snap_. 

"Excellent!" cried Dumbledore.

"Well done, Harry," said Lupin proudly and Harry was transported back five years to when he'd defeated the boggart in Lupin's Anti-Dementor lessons.

After that, Dumbledore insisted that they conjure the protection shield once again, this time keeping the connection longer than one hour.  They practiced it twice more, each time, gaining another thirty minutes. When Dumbledore finally announced that they had covered enough for today, Harry heaved a sigh of relief.  Even though the protection shield made him feel like time wasn't passing, it indeed was and a slow, steady fatigue had begun to creep up on Harry.   

"I think we've covered enough for today," Dumbledore said. "Harry, I've no doubt that you will be able to handle the training. We will begin next week."

"Headmaster," Snape began, no doubt to protest the length of time they would wait, but Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Next week. Now if you would all excuse me, I have things I need to see to. Sirius, Remus, if you could meet me in my office in a few minutes, please?"

Harry sank down onto the stone bench again and watched Dumbledore leave the room. Snape performed a Floating Charm on the large wooden box and floated it out without a word to any of them.  

"Well," Sirius said, as he, Harry and Lupin walked from the room.  He cast an arm around Harry's shoulders.  "I'm feeling slightly better about this.  Harry, you did very well."

"Yeah, well, it was just a boggart," Harry mumbled as the three of them descended the deserted steps.

"It's still an accomplishment, Harry," Lupin said.

"Snape doesn't seem to think so," Harry said.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Harry, he wouldn't know success if it bit him in the-"

"Let's not go there," Lupin interrupted Sirius.  

Harry looked at his watch and almost gasped at the time.  They'd been in that room for nearly six hours.  Lunch had passed and he'd missed an entire day of classes; Transfiguration was half-over.  

Harry voiced something he'd wondered when Dumbledore had insisted they continue next week and not sooner.  "Why are we waiting until next week?  Do you know?" he asked Sirius and Lupin.  He saw them exchange looks and Harry's heart sank.  "Has something else happened?"

Sirius sighed and ran a hand down his face.  For a split second, he was the man Harry had seen on the muggle news five years ago.  "The Ministry aurors are having some trouble. It's the Dementors. They've populated a small muggle town and have performed the Kiss to hundreds of people.  The muggles don't know the cause of this since they can't see the Dementor's and the entire town is in a panic. They think it's some sort of plague, people are just dropping dead all over the place for no known reason…not dead, soulless, but they've taken to calling it "brain-dead," or something.  Many have been killing themselves because half their families have been Kissed and they have no idea what's happening. It's one of the top priorities right now and Dumbledore is taking much time corresponding with the Aurors helping to gain control over the situation.  It's bad, Harry, it's… really bad."

Sirius mentioned the name of the town and Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief that it wasn't anywhere near Hermione's house.  Or anywhere near Privet Drive. 

"Which is why… I'm sorry to say that we can't spend Christmas together, Harry." Sirius stopped walking and turned to him. "Remus and I are going to help straiten this out."

Harry's stomach lurched.  "But you can't… the Dementor's-"

"I'll be fine, Harry, don't worry about me- and we'll both be here for each training session, I promise. I'm just sorry about the holiday, I was hoping that we could spend it together, but it doesn't look like it's possible."

"I hadn't even thought about it," he said weakly. Now he had to worry about Sirius and Lupin dealing with the Dementors.  Would it ever _end?_   

"We need to go to Dumbledore's office now, Harry, we'll find you afterwards to say goodbye," Lupin told him and Harry nodded numbly.

A horrible restlessness settled in the pit of Harry's stomach as he blindly walked in the opposite direction of Gryffindor Tower and headed outside instead, grateful for the freezing December air.  He ran with Fang for a while and had just began to make the usual path around the lake when he spotted something in the distance.  At the edge of the water, there were two people.  Harry couldn't make out their faces—but he knew one of them. He could spot the long red hair a mile away.  She was seated on a huge bolder and the other person was standing a short distance away… and he was taking her picture.

Harry moved towards them, if only to see who she was with, crossing the stone path and walking down the incline of the grass covered hill.  As he approached, he heard Ginny laughing and Harry stopped short when he saw her stand up and playfully make a grab for the camera the guy was holding.  Harry could make out his face—it was Colin Creevey.  

"Come on, we have to get this done!" Colin was saying, laughing at Ginny. She was doubled over and giggling uncontrollably at something.  

"Okay, okay," she breathed and pushed the hair out of her face.  "I think I'm getting delirious from the freezing cold.  Ready?" she pouted in what one might call a seductive face and posed dramatically for the camera.

Collin almost fell over for laughing so hard.  "When your ready to act like a normal model-"

"Model?!" Ginny shrieked and doubled over again.  "How pathetic you are to choose _me_ for your model!  You should have asked Rebecca Ethington.  At least she's pretty!"

"Will you just smile for the camera?" Colin asked.  "Come on, Ginny… we're almost finished."  
            "Okay, okay."  Ginny sobered and smiled prettily.  

Harry was so irritated at the carefree way Ginny smiled for Colin that he left.  He didn't want to examine his feelings, he was angry for even feeling them so he slammed himself inside the castle and went up to Gryffindor tower, feeling as though there was no escape from himself. He immediately sat down at the window seat, leaned forward and gripped his hair.  He tried to get his mind focused on something other than Ginny but visions of a swarming group of Dementors raiding a town and kissing hundreds of people began to flash across his mind, making him feel sick. The thought of Sirius dealing with that, well, it was just too much to bare.    

And suddenly, he paused, noticing something laying on the floor.  He realized that it was the sketchbook Ginny had been drawing in this morning.  

Needing a distraction, he opened it to the middle.  

Harry slowly flipped through the book, forcing his eyes to look at the drawings. He tried very hard to focus on the funny little creatures characterized and named, some with short paragraphs describing them.  As he turned the pages, he began to look closer and read some of the descriptions with little situations narrated with each beast.  It didn't take long for Harry to become enthralled—all the dark thoughts started to slowly fade from his mind as he studied Ginny's book. Here was an entire story written in the characters descriptions- a story Ginny must have come up with herself.  Harry flipped back to ones he'd skimmed over and read them more thoroughly, smiling at her inventiveness.

As he turned to the beginning of the book, Harry looked at the drawings she'd done of her family, smiled at some Animating Charms gone wrong, and marveled at her creativity.

One drawing in particular had his breath to catch in his throat.  There on the rough surface of the drawing parchment, was himself-- etched entirely in pencil.  It was… flattering, to say the least.  He was younger in the picture, probably third year, and positioned on his old Nimbus. Harry started intently at the drawing and marveled at her vision of him back then. The drawing was so detailed, Harry could see the gleam of his glasses and the folds of his shirt.  

He found it very hard to swallow suddenly. 

            The portrait swung open, and Harry jumped and glanced up at Ginny herself scrambling frantically through.  When she saw Harry sitting with her sketchbook, she heaved a huge sigh of relief.

            "Oh, Harry," she said breathlessly, her face bright red from being outside.  She walked over to him. "Thank goodness you have it!  I left it in here this morning and I only just thought about it now." She came to a halt in front of him and looked confused when he didn't hand it to her right away.  

            "Can I… er, have it?"

            Harry stared up at her and found he couldn't speak.  Ginny looked down at the page the book was opened to and Harry watched her eyes widen and her face pale.  

"These are really good," he muttered, cleared his throat and quickly flipped to another page.  "Really good." 

"Thanks," she said hoarsely and swallowed audibly.

Harry closed the book and stood up to hand it to her.  His eyes stayed on her hand which was shaking slightly as she accepted the book and fitted it into her bag.  Watching her nervous, fluttering movements, Harry felt an abrupt, but deep need to know that she didn't fancy Colin Creevey.  The feeling was so strong and Harry felt so taken aback by it that he muttered something about being tired and headed upstairs.  But he felt Ginny's eyes on him as he left the common room and when he fell onto his bed in exhaustion, he forced his mind to stay on her and on her little drawings—away from the dark thoughts that threatened to resurface.  

To Be Continued…

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The Hidden Tower


	11. Eyes On Me

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G, R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy… :D

**Also**—Thanks to Emmyjean for the "Emergency Meeting" regarding this chapter.  There's nothing like a deep discussion of character depth when you've got a terrible case of writer's block. ;-)

Chapter 11 

"Eyes On Me" 

"What day do you start training, then?" 

Harry sighed, tired of Ron asking this question over and over again.  He answered, it seemed, for the tenth time, "Monday." 

"Dumbledore hasn't said anything about the location?" Hermione asked.

"He never mentioned the exact location.  All he said was that there was a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train." 

"How long will you be gone?" Ron asked.

"I dunno…" Harry lifted his shoulders jerkily. "A couple of hours, I guess…"

Ron sighed angrily.  "Just when we're getting off for the holiday.  Happy bloody Christmas, here's a dementor to fight," he said sarcastically. 

"_Ron_," Hermione scolded softly.  "Keep your voice down. Nobody is supposed to know."

"D'you think anyone else is crazy enough to be awake at this hour?"

"Still," Hermione muttered.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were seated in the Gryffindor common room at an unusually early hour of the morning. Harry had awoken and come down for his walk to find Ron and Hermione already awake and sitting quietly. Harry didn't know how they had all gotten around to talking about the spell, but he sincerely wished they would drop it. 

Harry hadn't been able to sleep at all the previous night after receiving word from Dumbledore that training was going to begin on the twentieth of December.  That left Harry only the weekend to truly prepare himself to face a dementor and the demons that went with it. The fear of hearing his mother's terrified voice left him with an empty, hollow sort of feeling and the worst part of it all was that he didn't want to fight it.  He found he didn't care to at least try and have a focused outlook on the whole thing.  He had always been a bit angry at who he was and what was expected of him, but now Harry didn't want to even try and curb his bitterness. 

Part of what made it so difficult was that he knew it was truly starting to frighten Ron and Hermione. Every time he said something about how he felt, their concern for him would surpass any feelings they had on the subject and they spent most of the time trying to either get his mind off of it, or let him be. And until now, those things had always been just what he'd needed. Until now.

The sound of feet on the girls' staircase could be heard and Hermione silenced Ron with a look as Ginny appeared in the doorway, looking just as tired and preoccupied as the rest of them.  

"What are you doing up?" Ron demanded before anyone could say hello to her.

Ginny winced slightly at Ron's severe tone and Harry felt a surge of anger towards Ron.  Did he have to be so rude to her? 

"Couldn't sleep," Ginny said shortly.  "I'm going down to the owlery; I have a letter to Bill I need to send. Sorry for interrupting."  And she left through the portrait hole.

"You shouldn't have snapped at her like that," Hermione said to Ron after Ginny had closed the portrait hole softly.  

"She doesn't know what she's interrupting here," said Ron furiously, shaking his head.

"Exactly," Harry said quietly.  "She doesn't know; it wasn't her fault." He didn't see Hermione lift a brow.

Ron dragged a hand through his hair.  "She'll get over it.  Look, Harry are you sure Dumbledore said that we can't go with you?"

Harry nodded, pushing the look on Ginny's face out of his mind.  "Sirius and Lupin will be there."

"Maybe we should ask Dumbledore if we could go. Perhaps-" Hermione said. 

But Harry was shaking his head.  "No, why should you two miss a whole day of classes just to watch me?  It doesn't make any sense."  He knew they wanted to be there to support him—but he didn't want them to come. They didn't need to see any of that.

"Who cares about classes, Harry?" Ron asked irritably.  Ron was not taking Harry's training very well. In fact when Harry had told him that they were using a Dementor he'd quite nearly blown his top.

"What day is it again?" Ron asked for the tenth time.  

"Monday."

"Why so _soon?"_ Ron demanded, cracking his knuckles tensely.

He was starting to get on Harry's nerves.  "It's not soon.  You should have seen Snape—if it were up to him, we'd have already began. Dumbledore couldn't because of the incident with the— dementors."

Ron heaved a sigh. "Well, I think they could have waited until Christmas was over."

"It's important that they get started right away," Hermione said, and at Ron's narrowed gaze, exclaimed, "I don't want Harry to begin so soon, either, Ron!  But it's true, they shouldn't waste time."

"It is the truth," Harry said rubbing his eyes and leaning back against the chair. He couldn't shake the restlessness, the dull fear growing steadily inside him.  "I want to swim."  

"How about a walk?" Hermione asked, looking at him with worry.

"We could take Fang out," Ron suggested.   

Harry shut his eyes and tried not to think about Hagrid.  "No." And suddenly, he couldn't move for how tired he felt.  "I'm going up to bed… tell Flitwick where I am."

When he entered the dorm, Harry stripped off his robes and crawled into bed fully clothed, forgetting to remove his glasses and instantly falling into a deep sleep.  He awoke hours later, feeling absolutely terrible.  His limbs felt as though they were underwater, there was an awful taste in his mouth and his head was swimming. He groped for his glasses, which had fallen onto the bed and spotted Ron across the room, reading a comic.  

"It's about time, I'm starving," said Ron.

"What time is it?" Harry asked throatily.

"One-thirty.  You slept for six hours, mate."

Harry yanked his hands through his hair and gripped his aching head.  "Why aren't you in Potions?"      

Ron snorted.  "I could ask you the same thing."

Harry groaned and whipped the covers off.  "That's twice this week, I've missed. Snape is having a great time gloating, I'm sure."

"What do you care what he thinks?" Ron asked, tossing the comic aside. "Anyway, let's eat."

"Why didn't you go to lunch before?" Harry asked him as he stretched painfully.  He felt like he could sleep for another six hours.

"Wasn't hungry."

"Why didn't you go to class?"

"Didn't feel like it," Ron said shortly.

Harry sighed, angry that Ron wouldn't just admit why he'd stayed behind.  But as he splashed cold water on his face, he had to admit that he was relieved not to have woken up to an empty room.  They made their way down to the Great Hall where they ate a silent lunch, then returned to Gryffindor Tower to wait for Hermione.

~*~

The night of the Winter Ball, Harry laid on his bed, staring unseeingly at his bedside curtains while the entire school congregated in the Great Hall.  He thought about Ron and Hermione's reactions when he'd told them he wasn't going. Harry hadn't made any production of it, he'd responded with a flat out _no_ to Hermione's tentative question yesterday.  Ron had shot her a warning look, leading Harry to believe that they had discussed this beforehand. However, as much as Harry had been grateful to Ron for not letting Hermione press the issue, Harry had felt somewhat empty after that.  He wanted to explain to them why he didn't see the point, why it made him sick, and even though he knew he could tell them anything in the world, the fact remained that there wasn't anything they could do for him.   They could comfort him and be there for him, and Harry was grateful for that, but he didn't want comfort right now. 

"I have to go, you know," Ron had said to him right before leaving to meet Hermione downstairs.  Harry had been in the same position on his bed, but with the hangings pulled back and Ron had stopped before following Dean, Seamus and Neville out.  "I have to go, Harry, Hermione needs to chaperone and I—"

Harry had cut him off irritably.  "You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, I know you're _fine,_" Ron had said, exasperated. Then he'd sighed.  "Look, just—try not to lie here all night sulking, okay?  If you get the urge, you know, come down.  It's really no big deal."

Harry had said nothing at first, then, just to make Ron slightly happier, he'd lied, "If I have the urge, I'll come down."  

Ron had left with another "fine" and the seconds had ticked slowly into minutes.  

It didn't take long after for Harry to begin hating the solitude.  But his feelings about the ball were stronger than his loneliness, so he refused, absolutely refused to go down.  But what was he going to do?  He could read.  No, he didn't feel like it. He could take the time to get some homework done. He would never be able to concentrate. 

Before long, the curtains hanging on every side of him seemed dark and cold, like stone walls, so he yanked them back.  But the familiar room, which had once comforted him, seemed to be filled with tension as well.  His anxiety at its breaking point, Harry grabbed his cloak and slammed from the room.  

He wound up outside in the freezing winter night, standing in front of Hagrid's cabin.  He let himself inside the cottage. Fang came bounding from the other end of the room and leapt on Harry, showering him with sloppy licks.  

"Hey, boy," he muttered, scratching his ears and petting his black coat.  

Hagrid's cabin was empty and dark, only a small light coming from the magical fire that burned in the fireplace. He didn't know why but the lack of life in the place surprised him.  Had he really expected the lanterns to be lit and noises being heard meaning Hagrid was out back?  Had he expected the cabin to look any different from the last time he saw it when he'd come to feed Fang earlier today? 

Harry chose not to reflect on it, but sat down on the sofa and laid his head against the rest, enjoying the cold darkness of the room and listening to the nighttime noises outside the open window.  Fang curled up beside him and laid his head on Harry's lap.  They sat in silence for a long time. 

Harry didn't know if it was minutes or hours later when he heard footsteps outside, climbing up the front stairs. Hope filled him first—then caution. Harry grabbed his wand.  "Hagrid?" he called. The door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid.  

"Harry, it's me. It's Ginny."  

Fang's head lifted and Harry's hope vanished as Ginny stepped inside.  He could barely make her out in the darkness, but he could tell that she was dressed for the dance—her robes reached the floor and she looked taller; probably in her dress shoes.  She took another hesitant step inside.  "Harry, what are you doing?  Why is it so dark in here?"   

Resigned to the fact that his solitude was gone, Harry turned on a lantern and light filled the small room. Fang took the opportunity to leap up from his position on the sofa and jump on Ginny.  

"Fang," Harry said in warning, realizing that the dog was bigger than she was.  Fang paid no heed to Harry, but began lavishing Ginny's face with wet kisses.   

A reluctant grin tugged at his mouth as she giggled.  "That's a good boy," she whispered and pushed him down.  "Good boy, Fang."  She scratched the spot right behind his ear, the spot Harry knew that Fang loved to be pet.  And it occurred to him that she was very familiar with the dog—something else to add to the ever-growing list of things he was learning about Ginny.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Nothing, really," he answered.  "Why aren't you at the ball?"

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug.  "Why aren't you at the ball?" 

Harry hesitated.  "Because I didn't feel like going."

Ginny sank to the floor and began to stroke Fang softly. "Why?" she asked Harry then, looking up at him.  Harry didn't know why but her eyes made him slightly uneasy—perhaps because they were not wavering from his at all.  "I have other things on my mind," he said, watching her carefully.  

She nodded and continued to pet Fang in a slow, steady rhythm. "So you'd rather just… sit here alone, in a dark cabin with only a dog for company?" she asked mildly after a few seconds.

It was a game, he realized. A game he didn't feel like playing so he turned his head away and said nothing.

Ginny was silent as well, still  stroking Fang who had laid his head on her lap much as he had done to Harry.  

Something occurred to Harry. "Obviously you'd rather do the same. The ball wasn't much fun?"   

"Everyone's having a great time."   

"So why did you leave?" he asked.

She kept silent for a minute, and then answered. "Because I wasn't having a good time."  

"Why?" he asked, suddenly geared to play her own game.    

Ginny was silent for a moment before looking up at him. When she did, her brown eyes were very calm.  "Because your feelings are my feelings, Harry.  If you don't know that by now, then I don't know what to say."    

Harry's insides seemed to hollow out.  But Ginny wasn't finished.  

"You can't say the things you said and expect people not to be affected by them."  

Harry looked up and began to feel defensive. "What are you talking about?  What things?"  

            Ginny's eyes locked onto his. "At breakfast the other morning.  You made it very clear how you felt about this whole thing and I have to say that it wasn't right."    

            He stared at her.  "It wasn't _right?"_    

            "No, it wasn't."    

            Harry could not believe that he was having this conversation at all, much less with Ginny.  What did she know about it?  He didn't owe her or _anyone_ an explanation.  He was the one who was responsible for protecting the entire school, and _he_ was the one who should decide how he wanted to act about it. "You know what?" he said suddenly, not even thinking about what he was saying. "I am sick and tired of other people deciding how I should act.  Besides, it isn't any of your business, Ginny."

Her eyes turned angry. "You know, Harry, it's ironic, how your life is none of my business, yet you don't even hesitate to ask me about mine." 

He shook his head.  "You don't know what you're talking about.  We should drop this."

"Why?" she demanded.  "Because it makes you uncomfortable? Don't you think I was uncomfortable when you caught me crying outside that morning?  Don't you think it made me want to _die_ when I realized you must have heard me that night at the Burrow?"

"It's not the same," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Isn't it?" she shot at him.  "The subject of my dreams doesn't stretch far from yours, Harry." 

He stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words.  "It's different."

"How?"

He couldn't believe this.  "Ginny, you have no idea what I'm going through. Everything is on me. _Me._ And you can't possibly understand how that feels."

"Try me," she said stubbornly.

He stood.  "This is stupid."

Ginny stood as well, very quickly, and Fang pawed the ground nervously. "What are you going to do? Go back to Gryffindor and wait until everyone gets back so you can sit there and mutter that you thought the whole thing was _stupid_?  Going to go to bed and pretend to be asleep when Ron and the others come in?  Come on, Harry, that isn't _you_."

Harry stood stock still, staring at her with disbelief.  "How are you supposed to know what's _me_, Ginny?

She glared at him. "Oh, you'd be surprised." 

The meaning of her words broke something open inside him and he turned away, feeling as though some part of him was suddenly exposed.  He stared at the floor. 

Ginny spoke again, but her voice wasn't angry—it was barely a whisper.  "Harry… I know how you feel." 

He shook his head in utter disbelief.

"Well, perhaps I don't know exactly, but I do know…" she trailed off.  "I do know what's it like to be afraid. I know you're scared. But… you can't hold it all in and then turn around and take out your anger on some stupid dance. You're only hurting yourself by doing that. You need to let go, Harry, you need to just… _let go _of it."

The pressure in his chest was starting to make him panic. "You don't know what you're talking about." 

Her brown eyes were tormented. "I know that.  I know there's something going on, something that's happening. I don't know what it is, but I know what it's doing to you… if you just let me—" 

It was too much. Harry stepped back abruptly and Ginny froze, looking terrified. The silence was deafening.  

And then a noise from outside caused both of them to jump.  Harry walked passed Ginny and peered out the door of the cabin, his hand gripping his wand inside his pocket.  There was nothing out there but the dark night.  "We shouldn't be out here alone." 

Behind him, Ginny sighed softly.  After a moment, she joined him on the porch and descended the steps, her shoes clicking on the wooden planks.  Harry followed her and they walked up to the castle in silence.

~*~

            "Hey, Ginny, have a dance?"  

            Ginny looked up and smiled at Colin. She would rather crawl underneath her covers and have a heart-wrenching cry than dance with anyone.  "Love to, Colin."

            Thankfully it was a slow tune—Ginny knew she would never be able to put her heart into dancing fast.  Feeling completely at ease with Colin, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to think about the conversation she'd had with Harry in Hagrid's cabin not an hour ago.  Colin knew there was something wrong—he kept trying to tell her jokes to lighten her mood, but it was nothing doing.  When the song ended he gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.  

            "Don't think about it so much, whatever it is," he told her.  

She smiled apologetically at him and squeezed his hand. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

            "No, it's not," he said lightly before walking back to his table.  Ginny sighed went back to her own table, noting that Ron and Hermione were on the dance floor.  She sipped her butterbeer and waited for them to come back, her thoughts returning to the scene in Hagrid's cabin.

            All in one conversation, Ginny had admitted to having feelings for Harry, called Harry on his actions,  told him off and then scared him off.  And here she was sitting at a stupid dance-- Ginny knew perfectly well that it was stupid, she just didn't broadcast her feelings to the entire world in fear of ruining it for everyone else-- in her best robes --not that they were anything smashing-- sipping a flat butterbeer and watching everyone have a great time.  

            But Ginny wasn't having a great time. _She_ couldn't have a great time if _Harry_ wasn't having a great time.  In fact, Ginny wondered why she didn't just go and sulk in her in the dormitory as Harry was probably doing right now. After all, Harry thought the ball was stupid, therefore she thought the ball was stupid and any other thoughts on the matter, Ginny didn't know how to feel because Harry won't tell her how _he _felt.

            Stupid Harry. Stupid, _stupid_ Harry for doing this to her for the hundredth time.

Ginny spent the first part of her night thinking of him lying upstairs, all alone, in his dormitory.  And she spent the second part of her night infuriated with him.  She was angry that Harry didn't tell her what he was involved in right now.  She despised him for not seeing her right there all those times and especially now, when he needed her.  She was furious with him for not trusting her, absolutely _livid _that he refused to see what was right in front of him.  Didn't he know by now that if he opened up to her, she would be there for him without any questions?  Didn't he realize that she would have stayed behind tonight with him and they could have spent the evening talking or playing chess or saying nothing at all?  Didn't he know by now that she would do _anything_ for him?  

Ginny knew her fury was unfounded, that Harry would sooner tell Peeves what his innermost feelings were before telling Ginny.  That was what made it so difficult.

_"He never mentioned the exact location.  All he said was that there was a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train."_

_"How long will you be gone?" _

_"I dunno… A couple of hours, I guess…"_

_"When is it?"_

_"Monday."_

_ "Just when we're getting off for the holiday.  Happy bloody Christmas, here's a Dementor to fight." _

_"Ron. Keep your voice down. Nobody is supposed to know."_

The conversation she had overheard Ron, Harry and Hermione having the other morning had been the cause of much stress for Ginny over the past few days.  She had taken apart, examined, and tried to analyze exactly what the words meant. 

_"…a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train… here's a Dementor to fight."_

What did it all _mean?_  Obviously he was training for something and he was going to be battling with a dementor, and the very thought made Ginny's stomach roll.  She knew that it was because of Voldemort.  

            "Where were you?" Ron's voice snapped Ginny out of her trance as he and Hermione sat down.  

            "Dancing with Colin," she muttered, not even meeting her brother's eyes—the brother she hadn't had a conversation with all year, who found reasons to snap at her every time he saw her.  

            "For half an hour?" 

            "I went for a walk," she retorted, her eyes flashing.  "But so nice of you to be concerned."  Her idiot brother looked shocked at her outburst—as if she were the one who was out of line. 

            "I _am_ concerned about you, I'm you're _brother_," he said through clenched teeth.

            "Yeah, concerned enough to yell at me every two seconds," she snapped.  She wasn't about to deal with Ron and his stupid temper so she began to tell Hermione that she was going up to bed when she saw Harry through the crowd, approaching the table.  The very room seemed to dim.  He was wearing his dress robes, and Ginny knew that he must have taken an effort to clean himself up after leaving Hagrid's.  

            Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw him.  "Harry!" 

            Harry smiled—it wasn't quite sincere but it was a smile nonetheless.  "Thought I might see what all the fuss was about," he said nervously.

            "Got bored, did you?" Ron asked with a half grin.

            "Something like that," he said, glancing at Ginny. "Also… I had a mad sort of impulse to dance with the Head Girl."  The smile indeed reached his eyes now and he flopped a hand, palm up, in front of Hermione.  She took it with a huge grin. 

            "With pleasure."

            They walked onto the dance floor and danced to the slow tune.  Hermione started talking at once, and Harry shook his head, laughing at what she was saying.  Ginny watched him openly, not caring if Ron noticed.  

            "Hey."

            She glanced up to see Ron sliding into the seat next to hers.  "Sorry, Gin," he said awkwardly.  "Didn't mean to be so grumpy."

            Ginny continued to watch Harry.  "You were just being yourself," she sighed and grinned when he nudged her arm.  She nudged him back.  

"So… truce?"  Ron held out a hand, a sheepish look on his face.

Ginny slapped his palm.  "Truce."  

"Come on."  To Ginny's shock, Ron gripped her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.  A fast song came on and before Ginny knew it, she and Ron were dancing like they were kids.  Ron twirled her around and around until Ginny got dizzy and almost tripped over his feet.  They laughed and fumbled more than danced.  Harry and Hermione had sat down when the song switched and were now laughing at them.  

Ginny's eyes locked onto Harry's—they were watching her.  Then Harry smiled at her… and he didn't look away.  Ginny felt her heart flip over quickly and found herself grinning back quite foolishly. Ron caused a distraction by turning her sharply into a very low and clumsy dip which had them both stumbling and laughing.  

But Harry still watched Ginny, now with his chin propped on his hand, his eyes quiet.  

Ron noticed and pretended not to; Hermione's own smile was wide and misty.  But Ginny didn't care what they thought just now. Perhaps tomorrow she would when she had time to reflect on it.  However, just for tonight, Ginny danced with her brother, for once fully aware of Harry's eyes on her.  

To Be Continued…

A/N—the title of this chapter, Eyes on Me is actually the title of a song that I think fits Harry and Ginny's theme in Beginning of the End.  The song is Eye's on Me by Faye Wong and it's from one of the Final Fantasy games.  If you're interested enough, listen to the song—it seems as though it could be written for our pair. ;)

Review this fic!

Back to The Hidden Tower


	12. Training Day

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Twelve

Training Day

The sun was shining on December 20th, casting shadows through the bare trees and onto the snow covered grounds of Hogwarts.  It was a picture from a book—the vast grounds covered in a thick blanket of white sparkling snow.  Harry stared at it through the small window in his dormitory.  The hour was four am and for once, Harry had a reason for being awake. And for once, he knew that if he crawled under his blankets, he would fall asleep. But he couldn't. So he dressed warmly, as Dumbledore had advised, in casual clothing.  

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Harry's mind kept falling on his first year of school.  Last night before falling asleep, Harry had replayed in his mind every single moment of his first day at Hogwarts.  Arriving with Hagrid in the boats, looking up at the castle, standing in complete panic while waiting to be sorted with Ron.  He remembered coming up to the dormitory that tired, content night and climbing into his four poster for the first time.  He remembered that he had felt complete for the first time in his young life.

But now, Harry wondered what it would have been like had he not received his letter.  If, by some chance, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been able to keep him from Hogwarts.  He wouldn't have to face any of this. It was stupid, really, to think about because he knew his life would be empty and alone if he had never received his letter.  And his gratitude towards Hagrid for rescuing him from that life was as strong as it had been the day he'd walked beside him in Diagon Alley for the first time.  

But Harry couldn't help thinking about it… he couldn't help counting the number of lives that would probably have been saved if he'd never been known to the wizarding world as he was now. If he had simply remained the baby who had stopped Voldemort and who had never been heard from.

From across the room, Ron grunted a loud snore. Harry felt a sharp stab of relief that Hagrid _had_ found him and brought him here.  

However, when Harry left the dorms, he became totally numb to all the jumbled emotions he'd been feeling.  

"Are you ready, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him when he reached the entrance hall.

Harry wanted to laugh. He truly thought that to be a hilarious question, but he would never disrespect his headmaster.  He nodded quietly and realized something. "Where's-- Professor Snape?"

"He'll be there when we arrive," Dumbledore said simply. 

 They walked in silence, Sirius's hand on Harry's shoulder, following Dumbledore outside in the freezing cold.  The birds were starting to chirp but it was still pitch black.  Harry never did find out where they were going, but he didn't care to ask.  He didn't care to even know.  However, as they continued down the path, Harry realized with a jolt, that they were heading into Hogsmeade.  At the gates which lead to the main road, Dumbledore turned to Harry.

"The place where we are going to be, Harry, can only be reached by Portkey.  The Portkey has been set inside one of the Ministry Defense Shelters that they've set up in Hogsmeade.  The sight in Hogsmeade, Harry, is… unpleasant to say the least.  The photos in the Daily Prophet didn't even touch on the destruction, however, much of it has been cleaned up.  I just wanted to warn you, Harry.  It doesn't look the way it did last time you visited here."

Harry nodded and swallowed hard.  He didn't want to see it. He'd give anything not to see it.

"Also, Harry," Sirius added. "The Defense Shelter has extreme intense security.  Just stay silent until we get where we're going."

Harry nodded, feeling slightly nauseous. 

He followed Dumbledore numbly through the iron gates and into Hogsmeade. It wasn't anything he expected.  It didn't look so much a war zone or battlefield as much as it looked like a place that had been deserted for hundreds of years.  Some of the stores stood perfectly fine and unharmed—but the doors were closed and the window shades were pulled down.  There were no peddlers on the street selling magical souvenirs, no outdoor stands with food and drinks… no people at all.  Some buildings were destroyed and those were terrible to look at.  Many of them were just piles of bricks and rubble, but some of them were littered with things that had belonged inside the shops.  Papers blew in the breeze over one of the destroyed structures and Harry knew they must be from books that had once been sold in the book shop.  There was no dust or soot anywhere—it must have been wiped out magically, but the cleanliness of the street added to the irony of the massive ruins that stood everywhere leaving an unsettling atmosphere to the a place that had once been so welcome.

They walked down the pathway, passing all of Harry's favorite places.  He turned his head away from a very desolate pole from which hung a colorful metal sign, squeaking as it swung back and forth in the wind.  He couldn't bare to read that sign, the one he had seen so many times when opening the door below it with thoughts of butterbeer and pretty Madam Rosmerta.  The door was gone and so was the establishment that it had lead to.

They didn't walk for a very long time before coming across a small structure that seemed brand new.  It was a tiny place that looked to Harry a public restroom.  When they reached it, Sirius held out his wand, tapped several bricks and muttered an incantation.  Through the bricks, a hole broke and opened and Harry and Dumbledore followed Sirius inside.  

Harry stared in shock.  The place was enormous—bigger even than the Great Hall, with huge portraits lining the stone walls and rows and rows of desks behind which sat a variety of witches, wizards and goblins.  A huge line of Security Trolls manned the entrance, and right in front of them sat a desk with a sharp eyed goblin who stared right at them.

"Password?" he snapped at them.  Three wizards appeared from thin air and pointed wands at Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius. Without warning, the room disappeared and the three of them were enclosed in a tiny room made entirely of gray stone with no doors. A huge iron padlock hung in midair and began ticking.  Harry gasped as the walls began to close in on them.

But Sirius lifted his own wand at the lock and muttered a very long, complicated incantation—the password.  The lock clicked open loudly and vanished, along with the four walls that had been slowly closing in on them.  Once again, they were standing in the huge room, now further inside and behind the wall of trolls.

Harry wanted to ask what the hell had just happened, but his heart was in his throat and he remembered Sirius's words to stay silent.  Harry followed them further into the vast room and stopped when they did at a massive painting depicting a deep red haze that swirled around and around, turning several different shades of scarlet. Dumbledore touched his wand to the very center of the vortex and the mist faded at once into a very distinguished looking gentleman who regarded them with an air of importance.  "Password?" he asked.  

Dumbledore whispered something in Latin and the portrait, much like the Fat Lady's, swung open at the password.  They stepped inside and Harry found himself facing a long, deep corridor.  They walked for what seemed like hours, but when Harry checked his watch, only forty minutes had passed since he'd met Sirius and Dumbledore in the entrance hall back at Hogwarts.  Harry had the uneasy feeling that the passageway was shorter in site than it was in space.

At last they reached a very heavy stone door and Sirius pushed it open with his wand.  The room was small and completely square and on the stone floor stood a very common-looking iron goblet.  The portkey.

"Is that right?" Sirius asked Dumbledore sharply and the headmaster nodded.  

"That seems to be in order. A few tests will tell us for certain."

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the portkey and performed a few spells that Harry recognized from the special Dark Arts lesson as Jinx Detectors.  Then Dumbledore performed another spell which allowed them to view where the portkey would take them.  Harry saw the picture of it hanging in thin air—a large, empty, dusty room that looked like it belonged inside Hogwarts, some kind of hidden room or something.

Dumbledore picked it up carefully and both Harry and Sirius reached out a hand.  Harry felt the familiar jerk and in seconds his feet hit the ground.  He put out a foot to steady himself and looked around the room.  There were no windows and no doors and several people occupied the large space.  One was Lupin and he walked over to them the minute he saw them. Another was Snape, standing apart from four other surely looking wizards. But no dementer.

Dumbledore made introductions at once and Harry discovered that the four wizards were Ministry Aurors who would be supervising every session.  

"Where are they?" Sirius asked, and Harry noted that Sirius' eyes had changed.  They were now flat and expressionless.

"We've got them locked under several barriers, including an invisibility charm," said one of the aurors, an older one with a very thin mustache.

"One of the barriers is heavy enough so that we can't feel the effects of it," another auror explained, noting Harry's confusion.  He was younger, looked to be around Bill or Charlie's age, but had an air of knowledge to him that reminded Harry of Percy a little.   

"There are more than one?" Harry answered.  

Dumbledore spoke up before any of the aurors could.  "Yes.  The spell will destroy them eventually." 

Harry stared up at him.  "K-kill them?"

Dumbledore nodded and locked eyes with Harry.  "Yes."

Harry almost shuddered.  He knew dementors were terrible, inhumane creatures that fed off of happiness… but Harry had never killed anything in his life.  He closed his eyes tried to put the thought from his mind.  He wondered vaguely what was going on at Hogwarts right now.  Then he remembered that it was seven in the morning on Christmas holiday—most people were probably sleeping in.

"Are we ready Dumbledore?" another auror asked.

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "Are we ready?"

Feeling Sirius's hand on his shoulder, Harry let out a long breath and nodded.

~*~

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Ginny's eyes flew open at the voice and a loud pounding noise.

Every bad thing that could have happened raced through Ginny's mind and she started to scramble up in fear when the voice shouted again. "SNOWBALL FIGHT! Gryffindor verses Hufflepuff! The Hufflepuffs just issued the challenge! Come _ON!"_

Apparently someone had been knocking on their dormitory door. The sixth years girls began shrieking and scrambling out of bed while Ginny sat where she was simply stunned with relief.

"Ginny are you awake?" one of her friends asked her.

"Of course I'm awake, how could I not be?" she said grumpily.

"Well, come on, didn't you hear?"

Ginny plopped back down on her bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

"I'm too tired. What time is it anyway?"

"It's about nine. Come on, lets go we're already dressed!"

"I'm too tired." Ginny couldn't believe she had slept this late today of all days. "I'm just going to stay here." _And worry about Harry._

After everyone had left, Ginny stayed where she was with her bed curtains closed and the covers high up over her head. How could they have a snowball fight? Harry was off who knew where, fighting who knew what and the school wanted to go outside and play? What was the matter with everyone?

Ginny yanked her covers off and slammed around her bedroom gathering her clothes. She wasn't going to sit around and mope about something she had no control over, but she certainly wouldn't be outside having a snowball fight. She would wait until _everyone _could go outside and enjoy the break and not have to worry about fighting dementors and... whatever.

Not that Ginny knew anything, really. She was simply going off what she had overheard Ron saying last weak. "_Here's a bloody dementor to fight._" Ginny had spent hours agonizing over what that meant, but had come to the conclusion that she wouldn't figure it out. She'd debated flat out asking Hermione or Ron, but had decided against it. She knew they wouldn't tell her. They probably weren't even supposed to know. She decided to save her pride and keep her thoughts to herself. She knew that would only continue for a certain amount of time before her head exploded, but she was willing to take the chance. Perhaps her head could finally explode after she got out of Hogwarts—strike that, no, it couldn't. Harry would probably be staying at the Burrow this summer.  In fact until it was safe for him to live with his godfather, he would be living at the Burrow indefinitely.

_I'll never get away from him_, Ginny thought as she toweled her hair dry from her shower and pulled on some jeans. That was fact and she would just have to learn to keep her stupid emotions and questions to herself. She could do it. She wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. 

Although Ginny often wondered why it was she'd been chosen for Gryffindor House. She wasn't brave—in her mind she was a coward who was too scared to tell a boy that she loved him. The Christmas Ball came back to her and she shook her head irritably and padded back to her dormitory. Sure, yell at him when he was being an idiot, but she would never, ever have the guts to make him do something about it. Or force him to admit his own feelings. That had to come from Harry himself.  If he even felt anything for her at all… perhaps even that was all her imagination.

Ginny would not think about the way he looked at her the night of the ball. She would put it out of her head because Harry had more important things to be concerned with. He was going through hell right now—Ginny could see it and she would not expect anything from him.

And she wasn't going to think about it anymore, Ginny resolved while she yanked a comb through her wet hair and grabbed her sketchbook.  She would sit in her window and draw.  Her mind could shut down while she drew—it was one of the things she liked best about her hobby.  

So Ginny walked down the stairs into the common room, which was empty due to the snowball fight.  She had just started to wonder where her brother and Hermione were when Ginny froze at the site in the corner of the room.

It was Harry.  He was sitting on the sofa, his face white as a ghost… and he was staring right at her. As Ginny's eyes took a better view of him, she saw that his hands were shaking violently and his eyes looked sunken in as if he hadn't slept in days. She dropped her book on a chair and hurried over to him.  

"Harry?" she whispered, wide-eyed.  "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded quickly.  "I'm fine," he said, but the words were choked.  "I'm fine, it's okay."

He was far from fine. Ginny stared at him for a long time before she slowly sank down next to him on the sofa. 

"I told you, I'm fine.  Why aren't you out…" but even speaking was an effort for him. "…outside…?"

Ginny continued to watch him, her heart crashing in her chest. He looked the way he had when she'd seen him at the Burrow that night and she wondered what kind of nightmare he'd been through this morning.  She found herself whispering his name again and tried to block the ache when he shifted away from her. 

"Sorry… I have to go…" he muttered and moved to get up, but Ginny shook her head rapidly.

"No!  Don't go, I will.  You can have the room to yourself, Harry, I'll go."

"Wait," he said quickly.  "I- I don't want you to, I—" he broke off and sighed, running a hand down his face. "I don't know…" he said in a voice that was barely audible.  When he finaly dragged his hand away, Ginny saw pure torture in his eyes.  The ghosts that always haunted him, but worse, many, many times worse.

Ginny would never know what made her do it, but after a few seconds, she reached out and covered his hand with hers.  His was freezing cold and it was shaking. Harry didn't move it away but stared down at their joined hands very intently. Before Ginny could process what was happening, Harry turned his hand over under hers and locked their fingers together.  

She thought she would break open right there.  However, she clutched his hand and forced herself to remain calm for him.  He needed peace right now and she gently rubbed her fingers over his knuckles—an attempt to ease his pain.  

Harry let out a long deep sigh and—not breaking his hand from Ginny's—leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. Time seemed to stand still as they sat there.

Harry spoke a while later, his head still back, his eyes still closed.  "I saw a dementor today."

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut.  This was not the time to tell him that she'd eavesdropped on his conversation last week, but she found she didn't have to.  Harry opened his tired eyes and glanced at her. "You know, don't you?"

Ginny shook her head and said, "Not very much."

Harry nodded, and closed his eyes again. After another long silence, he spoke again.  "What do you think about when a dementor gets near you?"

Ginny looked up in surprise.  "I haven't seen one since…"  
            "On the train. I know… I remember you were there."

It was Ginny's turn to lean her head back.  "I heard Tom Riddle. The usual, you know."  Then she asked him very softly, "What do you think of?"

Harry was silent for a while.  "I hear my mum… right before she died. And a load of other stuff… but that's the gist of it." 

Ginny swallowed and looked down at their twined hands. For a second she couldn't tell which fingers were hers and which were his. When she lifted her head to look at Harry, she saw that he was looking down as well, watching their hands before leaning back again and closing his eyes.  They sat there for a long time.  

To Be Continued…


	13. April Showers

**Title**:  The Beginning of the End

**Author**: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

**Classification**: H/G R/H, multiple POV

**Summary**:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

**Spoilers**: Through Goblet

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner  Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

Chapter Thirteen

April Showers 

"Break the connection. Break it. NOW."

Remus Lupin's harshly spoken words hazed through Harry's mind and with all the strength he could gather Harry yanked his wand from the connection.  Reality was upon them all—Harry sighed with frustration, Snape muttered harsh words and Dumbledore rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.  The dementor hadn't the time to advance on anyone before the Aurors had it bound by very strong patronus'. The negative effects of the dementor ever present, Harry slumped into a chair and took a deep shaking breath, pressing the palm of his hand to the burning in his scar. With the busy schedule he kept, Harry didn't have much time to reflect on the fact that his scar had been a dull ache in the center of his head for the past few months. But it was something else to remind of everything.

He knew that Snape's accusing black eyes were on him and he didn't care. Harry was sick and tired of Snape taking everything out on him—he needed to get over it. Harry was also sick and tired of being in the horrible, musty room every morning. In January it had only been a few mornings per week.  However, since Dumbledore's research had become more involved in the past few months, they had increased the number of session to six per week. This meant that nearly every morning from the crack of dawn, Harry was away from Hogwarts until around nine, in which time Harry would return to the castle and begin his day of lessons. He was worn out.  And he thought he'd been sleep deprived before. 

The Professors were required to give him special lenience where his schoolwork was concerned.  Hermione helped him catch up best she could, but the fact remained that Harry simply couldn't concentrate on his studies very much.  He reasoned that it wasn't as bad as it could be—the training was a lesson on magic in itself.  But Harry couldn't help thinking that it wasn't fair—he wanted to be studying Conjuring Charms and Self-Transfiguration like everyone else. Those things would aid him in life—Harry didn't want to think about using what he was learning every morning with a damn dementor.

Creating the protection shield on the eight floor of Hogwarts, with wands pointed at nothing had been easy enough. However, nothing could have prepared Harry for dealing with the dementor. He hadn't fainted in the past few months, but in the beginning, he couldn't get through one session without passing out from hearing his mother's voice and seeing Cedric's dead body on the ground next to him. Building the protection against the dementor was a gradual process, as the dementor's strength started very strong and slowly diminished until it evaporated.  This process usually took hours—something Dumbledore hadn't fully counted on and they hadn't destroyed any dementors at all. The slightest preoccupation on either Harry's, Dumbledore's, or Snape's part would cause the connection to falter, in which case they would need to begin again. This was the case at that very moment.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, wiping sweat off his face. "We can begin again now, I'm ready."

"As soon as _you're _ready, Potter…" Snape said with sarcasm. Harry didn't need to look up to know that Sirius had opened his mouth to tell Snape off—it was an everyday occurrence, one that Harry was tiring of very quickly as well. However, Dumbledore spoke before anyone else could, informing them that they were done for the day.  Harry sighed inwardly with relief and thought about getting back to school—even Transfiguration seemed like a gift. 

Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius walked up to the school together as they usually did. Snape had never taken the journey with them—Harry didn't ask too many questions about that. However, before Harry could start climbing the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"There's something we need to talk about, Harry.  Something you need to know…"

"What is it?" Harry asked in a monotone voice. Bad news again… he wasn't too surprised that he didn't fear what Sirius was going to tell him; he felt number than anything anymore.

Sirius glanced down the deserted corridor and took a deep breath.  

"Draco Malfoy was pulled out of Hogwarts last week."

It was the very last thing Harry would have expected to hear. 

"Why? His father…?"

"Lucius Malfoy took him out of school… because of something Malfoy did. Or didn't do as the case is."

"What?"

Sirius let out another breath.  "Draco has been learning from his father and Voldemort over the past years. Summers, Holidays, anytime where he's been away from Hogwarts. Anyway, there was a massive plan a while ago to kidnap Hogwarts students in the beginning of the year… Malfoy, along with several other Hogwarts students who are unknown to us were supposed to execute it—create a scenario where many muggle-born students would be alone in Hogsmeade during the huge attack… but Malfoy didn't do it—he messed up, or didn't follow through—and he was a key figure, which is why everything failed.  He was punished over Christmas, by his father and Voldemort something terrible I imagine. But he was given another chance—another chance to prove himself." Sirius paused and his eyes darted away from Harry.

Harry's stomach had turned over since hearing that muggleborns had been involved and he watched Sirius wearily. "What…?"

"It was… Voldemort wanted Hermione, Harry."

            Harry tried to swallow, but found he couldn't. "What happened…?"

"Nobody knows—but Draco didn't deliver again. It was supposed to happen just a few weeks ago. The plan was very complicated and involved some kind of serious dark magic—"

"How do you know this? _How_-"

"We know, Harry. We know."

"Because of Snape? He told Dumbledore all this, he…?"

"We know, Harry," Sirius said firmly. "We know it's fact."

Harry let out a breath. "Because of me. It's all because of me-"

"Lower your voice. It's not because of you, Harry! It's because of him. Him. Not you."

"He wants me—and he can't get to me, so he—"

"It's not you," Sirius repeated, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders and giving him a shake. "It's him. Him."

Harry shook him off.  "I have to get to class."

"Harry—"

"No. Don't tell me it's not my fault, it is. Hermione wouldn't be a target if Voldemort didn't want to get to me—"

"Hermione was supposed to be kidnapped ages ago, when the plan got squashed—not because she's friends with you, because of her parentage, Harry. She is a target, she's muggleborn and she'll tell you the same thing—"

"I have to get to class. I'm behind enough as it is."

"Harry—"

"I'll see you tomorrow," Harry said irritably and pushed through the portrait hole to change his clothes, thinking of how in the world he was going to tell Ron about this.

A thought occurred to him suddenly, a thought that made his breath catch in his throat. What if Ron blamed him?  He had every right to, of course, and Harry would completely understand—Hermione and Ron were… and Ron had every right to want to protect her and make sure that she was safe, no matter how great the sacrifice.  Harry felt sick all of a sudden, but he made his resolve. He would just have to stay away from them from now on. That was all… he would stay away until this war was over… if it would ever end at all…  

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him at the entrance to the class.  

"How did it go, Harry?" Hermione asked under her breath as she always did after a session.

"Okay," he said, pretending to be occupied with his homework.  "The usual."

"You sure?" Ron asked, eyeing him.

Harry didn't get a chance to speak any further because McGonagal entered the classroom and began the lesson.  

During class, Harry glanced at Hermione who was sitting in the row next to him and felt for the first time unable to talk to her.  He had no idea how to tell her, no idea how to even start to explain.  Perhaps he could tell Ron first.  Harry nodded.  That would be better, and then perhaps Ron would take it upon himself to tell Hermione… 

He spent the day going back and forth with himself, unable to shake the guilt. He'd always known in the back of his mind that one day his friends would pay dearly for being close to him.  After all, Cedric had paid for simply being next to him and Harry felt cold dread at the though of Hermione or Ron losing their lives because they were simply next to him. 

Harry had to wait until after dinner when Hermione had taken her usual trip up to the library. It was then that he dragged Ron into a deserted corner in the Gryffindor common room and related to him voice everything Sirius had told Harry.

After Harry was finished, both he and Ron stared at floor for what seemed like hours. And then, Ron spoke.

"Why, Harry?"

Harry swallowed and braced himself. "It's because of me… they wanted to get to me…"

"No," Ron interrupted and looked up, his face pale. "Why didn't he do it?"

Harry stared at him. "You mean Malfoy?"

"Yeah. I mean… he had the chance to… and he left her alone. Why? What's he trying to pull?"

Harry shook his head. "I—I don't know. I don't know, maybe… maybe he was too afraid—"  
Ron cut him off by swearing loudly. "I don't want to hear any _maybes_, Harry! Why didn't he do it? There has to be a 

reason, there has to be—"

            "I don't think there is," Harry said honestly.  "He didn't go through with this twice in a row, Ron… twice. I mean if he'd messed up once, then he should have able to deliver the second time, right?'

"No," Ron was weakly. "No… he had to have messed it up, because if he didn't…"

            "What?" 

            Ron's face was suddenly a mask of fury. "Don't you see, Harry? If he chose not to do it, then she's—she's _indebted_ to him! He spared her; he saved her life and now—no. No, she will not be indebted to Malfoy; I won't have it. NO."

            "Look, it isn't as concrete as that, Ron. It's complicated, it's…" But Ron was right. No matter how they looked at, Draco had saved her life. Unless it had been a mistake… but something told Harry that it wasn't a blunder of Malfoy's. Something from the memory of Lucius and Draco in Knockturn Alley years ago caused Harry to feel that Draco Malfoy's issues weren't as black and white as Harry had believed.

            "Look," Harry said, in a choked voice.  "We don't have to worry about Malfoy right now—he's gone.  But I've been thinking it's best if we keep our distance, you know?"

            Ron nodded dully, and then looked up in confusion. "Keep our distance from who? Malfoy?"

            "No, I mean, us. I probably shouldn't… you know."

            But Ron's brows were drawn together in perplexity. "What? Harry, what the hell are you mumbling about?" 

            Harry sighed in frustration. "I'm going to stay away from you two for a while. It's for the best."

            Ron looked up and realization dawned on his face. "Don't be a prat," he said impatiently. 

            "I'm serious," Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

            "No, you're not. Look, we have to tell Hermione. Perhaps we should go to the library now."

            "Don't pretend like I didn't say what I said," Harry said irritably.

            "If you'd said anything worthwhile I wouldn't."

            "Dammit, Ron—"

            "Shut up, Harry, alright? On to the actual problem, please."

            Harry sighed angrily and was about to tell him off when the portrait hole opened and Harry looked over.  He saw long red hair and knew it was Ginny.  Harry's breath caught as she stood there looking around for her friends and spotting him.  She gave him a little smile and Harry returned it, suddenly very glad to see her.  She didn't join them, but when she sat down in the opposite corner of the room, she continued to smile at him for a minute before turning to her friends.

            It was the routine they had.  Nearly every night for the past few months Harry and Ginny sat in opposite ends of the common room with their own friends, doing their own things.  And after a while, after the room cleared, Ginny would get up and join Harry on the sofa.  And they would sit together, sometimes for hours, sometimes for a few minutes if Harry was too tired.  Sometimes he wouldn't go up to bed at all and Ginny would sit with him until it was time for him to leave to meet Dumbledore and Sirius for training.  Harry had told her what he was doing to fight Voldemort and Ginny had listened.  Just listened. And it was only recently that Harry started thinking about their time together during the day… while he was training, during class, between classes when he'd see her in the corridors.  The impatience to get to that sofa and sit with her would be all he could think about sometimes.  

His thoughts broke away when the portrait hole opened yet again and Hermione stepped inside, her arms full of books as usual.  She spotted them and hurried over and Harry felt his breath catch for the second time.  They would have to tell her now.  

            "Hey," she smiled breathlessly.  "I've finished that Potions essay.  Did you want to see my notes, Harry?"

            "That's okay," he said, not meeting her eyes.  

            "What's wrong?" she asked him and turned to Ron.  "Has something happened?"

            Ron glanced at Harry, who couldn't look at either of them.  He wished Ron would tell her and get it done with.  

            "Come on," Ron said and Harry looked up to realize he was talking to Hermione.  "Let's take a walk… you and I, come on." Ron stood and held out his hand for her.  

            Hermione looked with frightened eyes from Ron to Harry. "What is it? Tell me now." 

            "Come on, I will. Let's go."

            Her worried eyes on Harry, Hermione shook her head.  "Whatever it is, tell me now. Harry."

            Harry let out a long breath and shook his head. "Sit down, Ron. Hermione…" He told her everything, his eyes focused on the floor, his hands folded into fists.  Afterwards, there was a very long silence between the three of them and after a while, Harry felt that he had to speak. 

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I was telling Ron that maybe we should—"

            "Shut up," came Hermione's voice fiercely.  

            Harry looked up in surprise. "If I ever here you say that again, Harry, I don't know what I'll do," she choked. She wiped at her eyes, which were suddenly brimming with tears. "I have to… go upstairs now."

            Harry and Ron both stood up when she did.

            "Hermione," Ron began, but she stopped him.

            "I'll be okay. I just need to think… and be alone."

            They watched her walk to the girl's staircase and he and Ron sat down again—they didn't speak much and Harry could tell that Ron didn't want to talk about it.  They sat in silence and Harry found himself think of Hermione's words… why did they insist on him being around?  Why could they see if he kept his distance, maybe—?

            "I'm going up," Ron said. "You coming?"

            Harry's eyes darted to Ginny and back. "I'm going to stay here for a while."

            Ron looked at Harry for a minute before nodding his head. "Fine."

            After Ron left, Harry sighed heavily. Ron didn't exactly know that Harry and Ginny spent most nights talking and Harry wasn't sure exactly how to deal with that. He didn't have to think about it for too long because Ginny came over very quickly and sat down on the sofa with him. 

            "Has something happened?" she asked quietly.

            Harry turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were full of worry—she must have noticed the tension.  Harry let out a long breath and looked down, suddenly wanting her hand.  She knew and lifted it to find his and their fingers locked easily. He told Ginny everything and found it so much easier to say the words while he could watch his hand in hers.

When he was done, Ginny's eyes were even more troubled than they had been and Harry suddenly wished that they were somewhere else—back at the Burrow during the summer, walking in Hogsmeade on a Saturday afternoon, anywhere but here.  

She sighed softly and shifted so that her shoulder touched his.  "It's not your fault, Harry. You know it isn't."

"If I wasn't friends with her, this never would have happened."

"So in other words, when you became friends with Hermione, you could foresee this happening and you became her friend anyway?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I shouldn't have stayed friends with them after… Cedric… He died because of me, and you can't deny that, can you?"  He looked at her and her brown eyes were so troubled.

"No… but you didn't kill him, Harry. Voldemort did."

"I as good as did and now Hermione could have…"

"But Hermione didn't."

"She could have—"  
            "But she didn't. Hermione's okay and she doesn't blame you and neither would Cedric. Right?"

Harry was still looking at her eyes. "I s'pose."

Ginny nodded and after a few seconds, laid her head on his shoulder. She'd never done that before; the only physical contact they'd ever shared was hand holding. The little ache inside him grew—but it felt better than it had and he turned his head slightly to be closer to her.  He could smell her hair and again had that insane wish that they were somewhere else… in a different time even.  The things Ginny had said didn't change anything, the truth was still the truth, but somehow, inside, it wasn't so painful. 

The next thing Harry knew was that he was being awoken by the beeping alarm coming from his watch. He frowned thinking that something was wrong… something was different and it took a minute for him to realize that he wasn't in his bed and that he was sitting up.  He opened his eyes to find himself inside the common room and when he shifted he felt a pressure against his shoulder.  He looked down to see bright red hair against the black of his robes.

Ginny was asleep, her face pressed into the crook of his arm, her breathing steady. He swallowed the huge lump in his throat and stared at her for a minute before she moved slightly and made a little noise. Harry realized with a jolt that his alarm was still beeping and was horrified to figure out that Ginny was laying on his watch arm.

"Ginny," he whispered. "Ginny, wake up."

Her eyes flew open and for a minute they looked quite dazed until she sat up and looked all around in confusion. "Harry…?"

"Yeah… we must have fallen asleep. Are you okay?" he asked awkwardly.

She sat up and shoved her hair out of her face.  "Yeah, I…_what _is that noise?" she whispered is confusion and Harry immediately pressed the alarm button on his watch.  Ginny was rubbing at her eyes, and Harry couldn't tell if her face was red from sleep or if she was blushing.  

"Sorry…" he mumbled, his own face growing warm. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep… I…"

"What time is it?" she asked throatily. 

He looked at his watch and felt huge disappointment sweep over him. "It's four in the morning. I have to be in the entrance hall in fifteen minutes."

Ginny sighed and they sat for a moment in silence before Ginny spoke.

"You should be able to have a good night's sleep."

The statement was said so fiercely, Harry looked at her in surprise. Her face was set and her eyes were angry and it was all on his behalf. 

"I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways," he said, almost trying to reassure her.

Ginny shook her head.  "Still…" 

Harry felt a surge of gratitude to her and thought about many, many things he wanted to say to her just then. But it was all unclear so he simply told her that she should get to bed. "At least one of us can get some sleep."

She smiled feebly and as they walked to the staircase together, Ginny cast a look out the window. "It's raining." 

Harry glanced over and for a brief minute they stared at the rain beating down onto the lake in the early morning air. Then Ginny sighed again. 

"I hope it's not too bad today, Harry."

She was talking about the dementor. "Thanks."

" 'Night," she said and slipped into the girls' staircase. 

            After Ginny had disappeared, Harry blew out a breath and stood where he was for a few seconds before finally turning around and heading for the boys' staircase to change his clothes.

 ~*~

**_Dear Tom,_**

**_I don't know what's going on, I think I'm in trouble.  Strange things are happening all over the school and I think I might be involved.  I'm so scared, I have nobody to talk to, nobody cares except Percy and I can't tell him.  Oh, I just want to go home and never come back here again.  What's happening, Tom, am I going crazy?_**

Ginny, of course you're not going crazy.  You're a good girl, you would never do anything wrong!  You're a good girl, Ginny, a good girl.  What are you, Ginny?

**_A good girl . . . but I think I'm not myself-_**

_What are you, Ginny??_

**_A- A good girl._****__**

That's right.  A good girl.  Now, Ginny be a good girl and do something for me.  Will you be a good girl and do something for Tom?

****

**_Um… sure, Tom. But-_**

That's a good girl!  You must remember this carefully, Ginny, word for word and do exactly as Tom tells you.  Okay?

**_Yes, Tom._**

Go down into the dungeons, take the east corridor as far as you can.  You'll come to a hidden door that you can only see by the brown piece of stone at the bottom of the gray stone wall.  Understand that Ginny, the brown piece of stone.  Tap the brown stone with your wand and say _Alohomora!_  Do you understand, Ginny?  

**_Yes_**

After you open the door, walk down the passage until you find yourself in a large room. Walk twenty-eight steps into the room and you should be standing on a completely round piece of stone. Tap the stone with your wand, Ginny, and say _Alohomora!_ After you say that, I want you to write to me and tell me what you see, Ginny.  Do you understand, Ginny?

**_Yes, Tom, I understand_**

****

_Do you understand, Ginny?_

**_Yes, Tom, I understand_**

Now… Tell me what you see, Ginny…

**_I see… Oh, no, what is this, Tom, what is this? It's opening, the stone is opening… what is this?_**

Ginny, Tell me what you see. Hurry, now Ginny, you don't want to get caught, do you? You'll be in big trouble and then you won't be a good girl anymore… tell me what you see Ginny. __

**_I-I…don't want to look down there… I don't want to know what's down there… _**

_TELL ME, GINNY! NOW!_

**_No…. I won't… I won't…_**__

Ginny sobbed into her pillow and turned over and over in bed, tears mixed with sweat pouring down her face as she fought with herself.  "No… I don't want to see… _No…"_

"Ginny… Ginny, wake up…" was the terrified voice of Ginny's friend, Sarah Murphy.  

Ginny's eyes flung open and she jumped a mile when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  "Sarah…"

Sarah's big blue eyes filled with tears.  "Are you okay?"

A dungeon… and a secret passage… a stone opening… The visions danced through her head and suddenly, Ginny remembered. "Sarah," she gasped, shooting up in bed.  "Get me a quill… and some parchment… hurry…"  

Ginny scrambled out of bed, tripping on the velvet bed curtains and ran over to the desk. As soon as she had the quill in her hand, she began writing as furiously as she could, trying to keep the lingering scenes from the dream in her head.  As horrible as the memories were, it felt almost wonderful to write them down… as if she was extracting them from her subconscious.  When she had almost a page of messy handwriting, Ginny stopped and let herself breath. She realized that her friends were watching her and that Sarah was sitting on Ginny's bed, tears pouring down her face.  

"I'm okay," she assured them, wondering if she even knew what she was saying. "I'm fine, I just need to see Dumbledore. I have to…" She looked for the first time at her watch on the bedside table and saw that it was about seven o'clock in the morning… Dumbledore would still be at the training, she realized and her mind fell on Harry.  All at once, she needed to tell Harry… for him to know.  And then her mind fell on someone else and she grabbed her dressing gown from her bedpost and pulled it on with shaking hands. Ginny tried to give her friends a reassuring look before opening the door and rushing to the seventh year boys dormitory.

She hesitated slightly at the door before knocking loudly, her other hand gripping her parchment. 

"Who is it?" she heard someone call and it sounded like Dean Thomas. 

"It's Ginny," she called.  "Is Ron there?"

She heard muffled talking and suddenly the door in front of her was being wrenched open. Ron stood there in his pajamas, his flaming red hair sticking up in all directions and his eyes wild looking.  "Ginny, what's the matter?" 

"I have to talk to you," she blurted. "Now."

Ron stared from her tear-streaked face to the parchment she was gripping with shaking hands.  His face went pale. "What is it?"

They went down to the empty common room and Ginny told Ron everything, from her dream on Halloween night to Harry convincing her to go to Dumbledore to what Dumbledore had told her to do should she have another one.  Ron sat in silence for a minute before blurting out,

"_Harry_ knew about this?"

"I told him not to say anything to you," Ginny said wearily.  

Ron was silent for a long time.  "So instead of coming to me, you went to Harry," he said quietly.

She shifted uncomfortably.  "It's not like that. Harry was outside that morning, I told you. I wouldn't have gone to him on my own, he found me and he asked me if I was okay."

Ron looked as though he wanted to say something else on that matter, but instead he changed the subject.  "Why does Dumbledore want you to write the dreams down? What good is it supposed to do?"

She shrugged. "He didn't really say. I dunno… I just did as he asked."

Ron took the parchment from her again and read it over.  He puffed out a breath. "Is this supposed to mean something, this dungeon, this passage? Nobody else knows about this… is that what it is?"

Ginny watched him wearily.  "I don't know, I… I really don't know. I have to see Dumbledore now to tell him."

Ron gave a bitter laugh. "Perfect, just perfect." Then he shook his head. "Dumbledore's not in the castle right now, Ginny. It's complicated, but he won't be back until about nine."

Ginny bit her lip and said nothing to the fact that Ron didn't know that she knew about the training. She didn't blame Harry for not telling Ron but she wished that it didn't have to be so difficult. She wished that Ron would understand, but Ginny knew her brother. As innocent as her relationship with Harry was, Ron would not have an easy time understanding.  Harry confided in her… he told her things he hadn't told Ron or Hermione.  And Ginny knew that Ron wouldn't care for that.

Ginny realized that they'd been sitting in silence so she looked up to find Ron watching at her carefully.

"I s'pose you knew that, though," he said in a low voice.

Ginny straitened slightly.  "I—"

"You don't have to pretend, Ginny. I'm not stupid, you know." 

It was on the tip of her tongue to make a joke about it, but she just couldn't. He spoke as if he knew a great deal about this… as if he had thought about it.  And even though Ginny had heard a bitter edge to his voice, she could tell that he was hurt.

Ginny had no idea what to say, but her thoughts were interrupted when the portrait hole flung open. Harry stepped inside and stopped short when he saw Ginny and Ron sitting there. His tired eyes looked from Ginny to Ron to the parchment Ron was still holding. Ginny decided she'd better break the tension before it started and simply stated to Harry,

"I had another dream. Same thing as last time, but I wrote down everything just like Dumbledore said."

Harry glanced at Ron who had the parchment and back at Ginny. She knew he was torn as to what to do, she knew he wanted to read what she'd written, to ask her to tell him about it, and if she was okay. But he wouldn't do that with Ron there.

He didn't need to.  Ginny watched as Ron, his eyes on Harry's, held out the parchment to him. Harry took a careful step towards them, took the parchment from Ron and sat down in the chair across from them.  Ginny felt a hand clutch her heart and she wanted to either burst into tears or throw her arms around her brother for putting his pride aside.

After reading it several times, Harry looked up.  "We should go to Dumbledore. Right now."

Ginny nodded and Ron spoke.  "We were waiting for you to come back."

"Let's go now," Ginny said, standing up. "I want to show Dumbledore right now so that we can see if—"

She broke off as the door to the girls' staircase flew open and Hermione rushed inside the common room. Her face was pale and her breathing irregular.  Both Ron and Harry shot to their feet. 

"What is it?" Harry asked, gripping his wand.

Hermione shook her head violently and ran to one of the tall windows to peer out. "I think I saw… I saw…_no,"_ she groaned and raced to the portrait hole. 

"What?!" Ron and Harry demanded, running after her. Ginny's eyes darted to the window and then ran after them. Hermione didn't stop running and she was too breathless to speak, but they followed her and wound up outside the castle and on the grounds where it was now drizzling. Ginny had never felt so scared in her life as she ran after Hermione, with both Harry and Ron on either side of her.  

"Miss Granger, stop!" came a voice from behind them and Ginny turned to see Professor Dumbledore rushing down the slope of hill. Hermione, Ron and Harry stopped running as well to watch Dumbledore hurrying forward.  The she heard Harry give a startled cry and Ginny turned back.  

Approaching the castle from across the grounds was a large figure and it was moving steadily, carrying something in its huge arms.  Ginny felt cold dread sweep over her as she recognized who it was: Madam Maxime.  Ginny looked from the giant lady to Dumbledore and back again.  Ginny felt cold dread sweep through her…the thing in Madam Maxime's arms was a large moleskin coat… one Ginny recognized immediately and her eyes darted to Madam Maxime's solemn face as the lady reached out and handed Hagrid's coat to Dumbledore.

"No," Harry whispered. 

The last thing Ginny saw before tears blurred her own vision was the stricken look on Dumbledore's face.

To Be Continued…

The Hidden Tower


	14. The Calm Before

Title:  The Beginning of the End

Author: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

Classification: H/G R/H, multiple POV

Summary:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Spoilers: Through Goblet

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner  Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

_Reminder_: Hermione is Head Girl and Justin is Head Boy. Just in case you forgot. ;)

Chapter Fourteen

The Calm Before

The Easter holiday at Hogwarts found the students breathing a momentary sigh of relief and escaping outside to the spring air and hot sun.  Harry, Ron and Hermione took advantage as well and relaxed in short sleeves and jeans underneath a tree by the lake. Harry lie on his stomach copying Hermione's notes, catching up on homework and studying for his N.E.W.T.S but he was more relaxed than usual because he didn't have to worry about attending classes for two weeks.  Hagrid's death had sent all the Gryffindors and most of the school into weeks of mourning. And while Harry wanted to remain there forever, something inside made him stop and stand still. And it occurred to him that he'd hadn't done that at all really. His first instinct was, of course, to blame him… Voldemort for Hagrid's death.  However, Harry realized that he didn't want to think about Voldemort every time he thought of Hagrid. It seemed wrong somehow and it made him even more sad.  He liked it best when memories of Hagrid would flood his mind; all the happy times they'd spent together. Those things felt right to think about. 

            Harry heaved a sighed, letting his gaze sweep over Hagrid's cabin. He missed him. The thought of never hearing Hagrid's voice or seeing his big whiskery grin made him want to bury his head in his arms. Instead, he bent his head and continued writing. 

            "Look at the giant squid," said Hermione suddenly.

            Harry lifted his head and had to let out an astonished laugh. "What's his deal?"

            They all peered at the squid who was lifting one of his tentacles high into the air, stretching it as far as it could go.

            "Oh, no," said Ron. "He's going to splash us! Get up, hurry!"

            They started to scramble up, Harry grabbing his notes, but it was too late. The tentacle crashed into the lake at full force, sending a wave of water over the shore. Hermione shrieked, Ron yelped and Harry gasped as the wave splashed down on them.

            "Oh!" Hermione moaned, wiping her sopping hair out of her face. Harry looked at Ron, who was stunned and dripping wet and all of a sudden, Harry found himself laughing out loud. He heard a shrill giggle, which was Hermione's, and before any of them knew it, they were holding their sides for laughing so hard.

            When it died down, Harry realized that he was drying off already in the warm sun.  Then he gazed out at the lake with the light reflecting shakily on its surface and he realized… it was a perfect day for a swim. Wondering why he hadn't thought about swimming when it had started to get warm a few weeks ago, Harry mentioned it to Ron, who lifted a brow. "I could go for a swim. Hermione?"

            She gave them the incredulous look they knew so well. Harry felt like he'd asked if she wanted to poke at the giant squid with their wands for fun. 

"Swim? You must be out of your mind. Both of you. It's too cold!"

            "It's too cold," Ron mocked her in a high voice. "Fine, you can watch us, because I want a swim."

            Harry and Ron marched up the castle, changed into their swimming trunks, and headed back outside for the lake, with towels swung over their shoulders, Hermione yelling at them all the time.

            "You'll catch your death of cold!"

            They kept walking, trying not to be rude ignoring her, but ignoring her all the same.

            "Harry! You need to keep up your strength, you know!"

            "Hermione, swimming in the lake does give me strength. You should try it out; it relieves stress."

            Ron grinned. "A stress-free activity! Hermione doesn't like that kind of thing, Harry."

            "Oh, be quiet, Ron. I just don't want to make an idiot of myself with you two fools, that's all."

            "I think she just called us fools, Harry," said Ron. 

            "Oh, come on, you're not seriously going to swim. It's against school rules you know!"

            Ron rolled his eyes and said in a patronizing sort of voice, "Hermione, nobody pays attention to school rules."

            "You won't take too many points away will you?" Harry asked with a smile. 

            "Oh, honestly, of course I won't take points, however if a teacher should see me, I'll get into trouble," she rambled on. 

Harry hadn't felt so carefree in months and once he and Ron had jumped into the lake, he found it quite effortless to push any lingering dark thoughts from his mind. The water was freezing and they shouted out in alarm at first, but before long, he and Ron were racing each other. They fought over who won while Hermione called out to them bossily, her feet dangling in the water. 

            They went further out and when Harry couldn't touch the bottom anymore, he dove under and swam towards the floor of the lake, touched the sandy ground with his palms and pushed back up.  When he surfaced, the cold air met his face and he realized that he was farther from the shore than he had meant to be. When he looked over to where Hermione sat, he saw that Ron was near the shore splashing her lightly and she was laughing and kicking water in his face.  All at once, he thought that something was missing … He swam lazily towards the shore, listening to Hermione's and Ron's laughing and thought it wasn't right she Ginny wasn't here with them. 

            Ron was now swimming laps and Harry shouted that he was getting out.  Ron waved his arm to let him know that he heard him and continued swimming. Harry hoisted himself out of the water and grabbed the towel Hermione held out to him.  

            "Had enough?" She teased with a smile.

            Harry smiled back and pulled his T-Shirt over his head. "Yeah, I'm going in. Coming?" 

            "Naw. I think I'll stay for a while. Make sure the giant squid doesn't drown him."

            Harry laughed. "Don't get any ideas yourself."

            "I won't," she grinned.

            Harry jogged across the grounds and up the stone pathway towards the stairs that lead into the castle.  He slowed when he saw a figure sitting on the steps and smiled at the irony.

            "Hey," he said and watched Ginny turn her head in surprise.            

            "Oh… hi. Were you swimming?" she asked curiously, then shook her head on a weak laugh. "Obviously," she said and gestured to his towel.

            He took the steps two at a time and when he reached the one she was sitting on, he sank down next to her. 

"Ron and Hermione are down there. Feel up to a swim?"

            Ginny smiled. "Naw… it's too cold!"

            "It's not cold, it's perfect! Scared of the giant squid, are you?" He nudged her arm a bit playfully.

            "No," she laughed. "I don't really feel like it, is all."

            "I used to come out here every morning to swim… One time Hagrid came out to meet me and we went inside and had tea before class. I was late for Charms we talked so long," he said, laughing a little.

            Ginny laughed softly and leaned down to play with a stone on the step.

            Even though she didn't say anything about it, Harry could feel her tension.  "Any word from Dumbledore?" he asked her.

            "Nope." She flicked the stone away and watched it tumble down the steps. 

            Harry, Ron and Ginny had gone to Dumbledore the morning of Ginny's dream and Ginny had shown Dumbledore  what she had written down. The Headmaster had seemed very concerned and genuinely worried, telling Ginny he would contact her soon about it.  

            Because he knew exactly how she was feeling, Harry leaned his shoulder against hers. "Try not to think about it."

            Ginny nodded. "I am.  It's just… never mind."

            "What is it?" he persisted.

            She shook her head. "You don't need to hear this, really. With everything going on and all…"

            "Don't do that," he said angrily. 

            She regarded him for a minute and then looked away. "It's just that… well, I keep going over it all in my head and I keep thinking—" she broke off and brought her arms up to wrap around herself.

"What?" he asked, leaning a bit closer.

            Ginny sighed and waited a long time before speaking. "I keep thinking… my dreams… perhaps they'll start to control me… like the diary."

            Harry let out a long breath and thought very hard about it. "You know…I don't think that's going to be a problem. Not with Dumbledore looking after you. If he was worried about that then he would already be taking action against it." 

            Ginny looked up at him.  "You really think so?" 

            Harry nodded. "I really do." 

            She nodded also and Harry could tell she was trying to convince herself. 

"Come on," he said on impulse, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.

"Come on… where?" she asked and Harry something in her eyes shining a bit despite her worries.

Encouraged by it, Harry tugged on her hand. "Swimming."

"No," she protested, a trace of laughter in her voice and she tried to pull her hand away.

"It'll do a world of good, I promise."

"I don't even have my swimsuit." 

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Miss Weasley."

Ginny sighed and gave in and walked with Harry down the steps. "Okay, fine. I'll put my feet in, how's that?"

"Fine. However, be warned; Ron and I are merciless when it comes to splashing."

"I can handle myself around bully's." 

"I believe it. I've seen you better Fred and George," he said, keeping her hand in his as they walked down the pathway.

"True, however, have you had the privilege to witness Ron at my mercy?"

"Now _this _I have to see."  

"Let's go then," she said, now tugging on his hand. 

He let her pull him the rest of the way.

A short while later, Harry climbed out again and toweled off while Ron and Ginny fought in the water.  Ron had pulled his sister in by the foot and thus started a terrible splashing war.  When Ron demanded that Harry choose sides, he wisely decided he'd had enough.

Still swinging her feet in the water, Hermione watched the splashing pair and gasped slightly as Ron dunked Ginny's head under and held it. Harry smiled a little.  

"She can handle herself."

Hermione looked at him and after a second, she said, "You don't have to tell me.  She's tough, that one."

Harry said nothing and leaned back, enjoying the burning sun on his face and arms. For a while they sat in silence watching Ron and Ginny.

"Can you believe we won't be coming back here next year?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "I try not to think about it."

"Yeah, but… it's coming, you know. Soon we shall be Hogwarts alumni."

"That's a scary thought."

"It most certainly is. Want to know something funny?" she asked him, smiling fondly. Harry smiled back and lifted a brow. 

"Hmm?"

"Before Hogwarts—when I didn't know I was a witch—I had my life all planned out.  I wanted to be a dentist like my mum and dad. I was going to study at the same Dentistry school as they did and after that, one of them would hire me. And then when I had enough experience, I would open up my own practice."

Harry stared at her amazed. "I never knew you wanted to be a dentist."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I don't now. My options have expanded a bit. How about you, Harry? What did you want to be when you grew up?"

He smiled a little, thinking back to when he'd been only been a child at the Durselys. "I wanted to 

be a pilot."

"A pilot?" Hermione choked, laughing.

"Yeah… well, I didn't know what it was called at the time, I just wanted to be the one who flies the airplanes… to be able to leave and… go.  Just go away." He let out a little laugh. "I haven't thought about that in ages. Since Hogwarts." 

Harry remembered the memory so clearly now. And it made him think of how trapped he had felt at the Durselys his whole life, even as a child when hadn't know any better. He felt that same hold again now and he started to shake it off—to tell himself that he wasn't trapped anymore because he had Hogwarts and his friends and Sirius and one day he would be free.  

Then Harry's train of thought came to a halt as something occurred to him.  He _was_ free.  There was no going back to the Dursleys after end of term… no more tiny bedroom, no more eating someone's leftovers or being screamed at day and night. The mere thought had pure adrenaline pumping through his veins and he sat up, not knowing what to do about it. He was free now. 

He glanced at Hermione who was tossing stones in the water, oblivious to Harry's discovery and then out to Ron and Ginny who were now playing some sort of odd sport that could only be a Weasley family game. Thoughts of summer popped into his head and playing Quidditch day and night in the glen at the Burrow. Would he return to the Weasleys again?  Watching Ginny, he thought that idea definitely had merit and he felt a grin pulling on his mouth.

But then there was the familiar plummeting feeling when his thoughts returned to what he would have to face eventually. And if he would make it through to ever have his freedom. 

He couldn't go far away from Hogwarts and knew that Dumbledore had mentioned something he was working on to be able to contact Harry after term if he was needed at Hogwarts. Preoccupied, Harry glanced back at the castle and let his eyes travel from the top of Gryffindor Tower down to the windows of the Great Hall, to the Greenhouses, and The woods. His gaze lingered on Hagrid's Hut for a moment before traveling to the Quidditch pitch.  He stared at it for a long time. 

After the swimming, just as the sun began to set, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat under the same tree.  They talked about silly things, like Ginny's Divination frustrations and Ron's plans to curse Snape in his sleep. Hermione and Ginny laughed at some secret joke while Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at one another.  

Every so often, Ron would glance from Harry to Ginny and back again, and Harry knew that he was stifling the urge to ask them strait out what was going on between them. Harry was grateful that he didn't—although the answer to that question seemed very simple in retrospect, Harry's feelings were another matter completely.  He knew he liked Ginny as something more than a friend… He knew he depended on her very much lately and that the slightest smile from her could leave an entirely different feel on his day.  But answering the question, especially if Ron were to ask, would not do just yet.  

            "Did you hear?" Ginny was saying to Ron. "George has a new girlfriend. Mum told me in her last letter."

            "Who is she?" Hermione asked. 

            Ginny shrugged. "I dunno, Mum said that she works close to the joke shop and George has been secretly dating her all year. Fred didn't even know."

            "What a loser," Ron muttered.  

            "Well, Mum was beside herself. She seems to think that one day she's going to wake up to find Bill, Charlie, Fred and George all married with children without her knowing it."  

They all laughed and speculated on who it could be for while and a short time later, Harry looked up to see an owl flying through the twilight, heading strait for them. They all watched as it swooped down in front of Harry and dropped a letter in his lap before taking off.  

"Probably from Sirius," Harry started to say and lifted a brow upon noticing the plain envelope with no heading or name.  He flipped open the envelope, but when he unfolded the small piece of parchment, he saw that it, too, was completely blank.  He turned it over in his hands. "It's empty," he said, looking up at them, confused.

The last thing he saw was Hermione's eyes widen with fear before he felt a searing pain slice across his forehead. Harry barely had time to register anything before the letter was pulled with an invisible force from his hand and into the air.  The pain was all consuming and he clapped a hand to his forehead and doubled over.

"Harry!" he heard Ginny say and he felt a hand on his back.  

The next thing he knew was a blinding green light in front of his closed eyes and Hermione say in a shaking voice, "Dumbledore. Now."

"Harry, can you stand?" came Ginny's trembling whisper and when he tried to shake his head, the pain increased so badly that he cried out.

Harry felt strong hands grip him underneath his arms and pull him to his feet and he knew it was Ron. He had no idea how he walked up to the castle in the state he was in, but soon they were sitting in Dumbledore's office and Harry was still bent over, clutching his throbbing head, while Hermione and Ron blurted to Dumbledore what had happened.  

"…Harry got a letter and it was blank… when he opened the envelope… he couldn't even stand… it's still out there…the Dark Mark…"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, barely hearing them or Dumbledore speaking.  The blinding green light of the Dark Mark was still visible behind his eyes, but the pain was starting to ease faintly. He opened his eyes and the floor came into focus… his shoes… Ginny's shoes… Ron's shoes… the bottom of Dumbledore's desk.  He raised his head a bit, testing the pain and when he knew it was safe, Harry raised his head level. He realized there was a hand on his shoulder and it was Ron's, gripping very tight. 

Dumbledore was standing at the window, staring down onto the fields, where the mark still glowed against the night sky just over the tree. And then he turned to face them and Harry saw the same look behind the blue eyes as he did when they were in the middle of _Bene Omnia Vincit_. Focused and intense, Dumbledore's eyes swept from Harry's scar to look him in the eye. 

The last thing Harry remembered was sharp knives stabbing at his forehead again causing a sudden nauseous feeling before the floor came rising up to meet him.

To Be Continued…

The Hidden Tower


	15. The Beginning

Title:  The Beginning of the End

Author: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

Classification: H/G R/H, multiple POV

Summary:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Spoilers: Through Goblet

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

_Reminder:_ Hermione is Head Girl and Justin is Head Boy. Just in case you forgot… ;-)

Chapter Fifteen

The Beginning 

            When Harry woke up, he became instantly aware of two things: one, he wasn't in his own bed and two, something was very wrong. He opened his eyes to the dark and deserted hospital wing, lit only by a thin candle on his bedside table and an odd glow of green light. When his eyes adjusted, they focused on the window across the room and the streak of emerald pooling on the dark floor beneath the window. Memories of the earlier events washed over him like a giant wave.  

Without thinking, Harry sat up quickly—and sucked in his breath.  The pain was blinding and he quickly fell back, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to empty his mind. It hurt even to think.  He didn't know how long he stayed in that position, his eyes squeezed shut, his head throbbing mercilessly until, at last, the pain became slightly bearable. Harry opened his watering eyes and lifted his head cautiously.  After a few seconds, he brought himself up into a sitting position and before long, he was perched on the edge of the bed, his bare feet on the cold stone floor as he held his head in his hands and tried to remember what had happened.

His brain formed a picture of the lake and he remembered feeling totally relaxed for the brief moment.  And in his mind, he saw the Dark Mark, through the window behind Dumbledore's desk, glowing into the night and floating over that tree. Hermione had been talking… telling Dumbledore what had happened by the lake. The last thing Harry recalled was the pain in his scar and feeling like he was going to throw up… or faint. 

Harry took a deep breath. As he sat on the bed, in the silent, empty room, the dull pain began to desist. He felt drained—as if he'd spent the entire day practicing _Bene Omnia Vincit _without a break.  The thought of the spell had a thin tremor of fear prickling the back of his neck. 

How was he supposed to protect the school from Voldemort when he could even look at the bloody Dark Mark?

Very carefully, he leaned over and got to his feet. The pain increased slightly, but it wasn't anything earth shattering, so he walked over to the window and narrowed his eyes in the bright light.  The Mark was still out there, bigger now and glowing even brighter than before.  All he could do was stare at it and once again, the burning in his scar erupted. 

Harry clutched his head and staggered back, collapsing onto the nearest bed. The truth was right there in his scar and somewhere in the back of his mind Harry knew this was it—what Dumbledore had predicted, what _Bene Omnia Vincit _had been assembled for.  And here _he_ was, the key figure, in the bloody hospital wing unable to move. 

The door at the very end of the room creaked and Harry looked up to see it open and close by itself.  He shot to his feet and grabbed his wand, wavering on the spot from the nauseating pain the sudden movement afforded him. 

There was a rustle in the air and Ron appeared, yanking off Harry's Invisibility Cloak and tossing it onto the bed.  

"Ease up, mate, it's only me."

Harry sank onto the bed. "What's happening?" 

"Nothing… what I didn't have to do to get up here, you'd think people would go to bed already. It's two in the morning." Ron sat down onto the bed opposite Harry and looked at him intently. "How do you feel?" 

Harry lifted a hand. "I'd like to know what in hell is going on out there."

"Well, it's all quiet now. Everyone's either asleep or sitting up staring at that bloody thing.  It's huge now." 

"I know—I saw it. What happened after I passed out?"

"Well, everyone had to report to the common rooms while Dumbledore called a huge meeting with all the teachers.  It lasted for hours and everyone just sort of huddled in corners talking about it. Then McGonagal came in and told us that the entire school had to get down to the Great Hall and we did—and get this—barely any Slytherins were there. Most of them are barricaded in their dormitories and McGonagal told Hermione that she thinks they're too scared to come out, that everyone will think they put the mark up."

Harry frowned deeply. "They're not scared—they're just refusing to obey Dumbledore. They're making a statement."

"That's what I said—Hermione doesn't think so, of course. Anyway, Dumbledore stood up at the head table and told everyone that the school is on a—how did he say—"protective lockdown." No leaving the castle, all lessons are canceled until further notice _and_—no owl post.  The owlery is closed up and the teachers put some sort of charms on all the windows so that nobody can open them to let any owls in—we can't receive any letters either.  People were really sore—everyone wants to write home to get permission to leave, but Dumbledore said—and he looked really strict, almost furious—he said that everyone was still safer at Hogwarts than they would be anywhere else and that everyone "needs to have faith" or something like that."

Harry rubbed at his forehead. "What else did he say? How did you leave if security is so tight?" 

At this Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, Dumbledore told Hermione that he was going to conduct another meeting with the teachers at midnight—all the prefects and Hermione and Justin had to go. I assumed Madam Pomfrey would be there, but nothing doing—she's still at her usual position guarding that door.  I had to get Nearly Headless Nick to cause a diversion and it took so bloody long, I could have waited until the meeting was over with anyway so that Hermione could get us in here. _She's_ aloud to roam the castle at night—although Dumbledore insisted she or Justin not to go off alone anymore." 

Harry let out a long breath.  "Where's Ginny?" he asked without thinking and the minute he said her name, he regretted it. Ron's face became guarded.

"She's asleep," he said shortly.

Harry stared blindly at the portrait on the opposite wall, not wanting to push Ron, but needing to know.  "Dumbledore hasn't said anything to her about… the dreams?"

Ron paused before saying, "He wants to speak with her tomorrow morning."

Harry snapped his eyes to Ron's. "Yeah? Well… what's her take on it?"

Ron cracked his neck with a roll of his head and then stretched his back. "She doesn't know."

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Well, then how—?"

"Dumbledore gave Hermione the message to give to Ginny, but we haven't told her yet. We'll wake her up tomorrow with the news—let her have a sleep without wondering what it's all about."

Ron's eyes shifted to the window and Harry followed his gaze, his stomach in knots about what Dumbledore wanted with her. Harry looked back at Ron and thought that he didn't even know what Ron thought about it.  They had avoided the subject altogether since discussing it the morning that Madame Maxime… 

"What do you suppose it means?" he abruptly asked Ron, trying to shake off the stab of grief at the thought of 

Hagrid.  "These dreams…?" 

"How would I know?" Ron asked and Harry heard an edge to his voice.

"Well… what do you think?"

He turned and looked Harry in the eye. "I don't think it's fair… why does it have to be her? She had to be the one to write to that stupid diary, and now she has to suffer the consequences. Why?"

Harry looked away. He felt as if Ron was somehow accusing him of something… It was stupid, and Ron would never blame Harry for any of it, but that didn't stop the pang of guilt.  

Ron stood up then, looking almost defeated. "I'd better get back."

Harry got to his feet as well. They needed to talk about this before things became any more uncomfortable. "Wait a minute. There's things we have to talk about—"

"I've told you everything, Harry. Unless there's something you need to tell me…?" Ron let his question linger with a skeptical expression on his face, but Harry knew the meaning behind his tone.

After a second of the two boys regarding each other, Ron let out an amused breath. "That's what I thought. Why talk to me when you'll be seeing my sister again tomorrow? You can talk to her about it all…"

"It's not like that," Harry said automatically.  

"Then, what? What is it like?"

Harry knew he'd better come up with an answer or Ron would leave so he said the first thing that came to mind.  

"Ginny was just… there," he fumbled. "I didn't… I never asked her to- " 

"There?" asked Ron, an incredulous look on his face. "She was _there_? And where was I, then? On a bloody holiday?"

The guilt multiplied… but he couldn't help feeling a little angry as well. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Not everything is about 

you—"

"That's right—nothing is about me, Harry. Nothing. Hermione was in danger more than once this year—and I couldn't do anything about it—nor can I do anything to protect her now. My sister is having nightmares about the Dark Lord and she didn't even bother to fill me in on it… neither did you come to that. And you… you're going through bloody hell trying to protect the school. My entire family is off fighting, all my brothers, my father and here I am doing nothing, trying to keep things normal for Hermione, trying to keep my sister from being afraid and trying to—somehow—help you. And I have to say—it's not much fun, Harry."

Harry stared at Ron, trying to think of something to say to all this.  But there was nothing—because Ron was right.  

"Look, I'm not trying to start a fight when you have all this to worry about—"

"Don't say that," Harry snapped impatiently.  "You're right—you're right about everything.  I just don't know what you want me to do about it."

"I don't expect you to _do_ anything, I just wish you'd tell me what's going on. Ginny… what is she to you?"

There it was.  Harry had known it was coming the minute he'd resolved to talk to Ron about it all. Ron was watching him directly, waiting for an answer. 

"I don't know what Ginny is to me," Harry said quietly, meeting his eyes.  "I can barely figure out what I'm feeling for her, let alone know anything else."

"So… you do have… feelings for her?" Ron asked cautiously.  He looked like he would rather talk about anything else, but needed to know this. 

Slowly, Harry nodded. He wanted that to be enough, but somehow, he felt he owed it to Ron to say it out loud. "Yeah—Yes." 

Ron swallowed audibly and expelled out a long breath. "Did you think that would make me sore?"

"Aren't you sore?" Harry demanded.

"Well, only because you didn't tell me!"

"Oh, come off it. You're saying that you wouldn't have been sore if I'd have come to you with this months ago?"

Ron looked exasperated. "Well… it would have been a shock and it would have been weird—it's _still_ weird, come to that.  But… bloody hell, mate, it would have been better than keeping quiet about it."

Harry let out a breath. "Sorry, then.  I just didn't know what was going on—and I still don't—it's complicated and I don't know what I'm… thinking half the time."

To his surprise, Ron smirked. "I hear that."

At that moment, the door creaked open. Ron leapt over to the other bed and grabbed the Invisibility Cloak.  He was properly covered by the time Madam Pomfrey was all the way inside, but Harry was left sitting upright on a fully made bed staring at a wall.

"What are you doing up?" she nearly shrieked. "It's the middle of the night! How do you feel—is your head still bothering you?"

"It's okay now—it feels a little better. I was just—"

"Well, get back in bed. Now. And don't look at that… thing. It's not good for you."

Harry rolled his eyes and walked unsteadily back to bed.  He had forgotten about the pain while he'd been talking to Ron, but now that he had nothing to occupy his mind, it seemed to swell a little.  Harry climbed into bed and closed his eyes against it.  When Madam Pomfrey left, insisting on him going to sleep, Harry opened one eye said into the darkness,

"Ron?"

He was met with silence and he glanced at the floor where Ron had thrown the cloak over himself. He must have left when Madam Pomfrey had been fussing about.  Harry yawned and felt his eyelids drooping and the minute his head hit the pillow again, he fell into sleep.

~*~

It was rather late in the afternoon the next day when Harry managed to wake up.  He thought groggily that something was wrong—and then he knew. His eyes fell on the window across the room and instead of green light pouring through; it was a bright white cast—the sun.  Harry dashed over to the window, the pain in his scar still very tangible.  He looked out at the tree and his heart filled with hope.  The Mark was gone… gone…

Right on cue, Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, a large, simmering potion in her hand.  "You have to take this," she said sharply, noting Harry by the window.  "Now."

"Is it really gone?" he asked her.  "The… Mark?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him.  "No, it's still out there. It's moved higher now, you won't see it from where you are." 

"Higher?" Harry asked, taking the potion and sniffing it—it was a Pepper-up. He downed it in two gulps.

"Yes… It's above the castle now."

His hope vanished in an instant. Above the castle… "I have to see the Headmaster."

Madam Pomfrey looked at him closely and Harry could tell she knew she had no choice.

"I'm fine," Harry reassured her. "Really." 

The potion didn't do anything for the pain in his scar, but his limbs were no longer stiff from sleep and his head wasn't so foggy. 

"Very well," she said at last. "I'll escort you."

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. You can shower and change—your friend brought a set of clean robes for you."

It occurred to Harry that the entire staff had probably been instructed not to let him go anywhere alone. He sighed inwardly, but knew he was better off for it.

After showering and changing, Harry followed Madam Pomfrey up to Dumbledore's office. He passed the passageway he would normally take up to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry paused for a moment, remembering the meeting between Ginny and Dumbledore. He wanted to seek out Ron or Ginny, but a sharp twinge in his scar forced him back to present time. He needed to see Dumbledore strait away—there was no waiting.

Dumbledore's light eyes met his as Harry stepped into the circular room. He inclined his head.  

"I was just about to send for you, Harry. Thank you, Poppy." After Madam Pomfrey closed the door behind her, Dumbledore looked at Harry intently. "Tell me what's worrying you."

It was an odd question and Harry wanted to laugh—what wasn't worrying him?  However, from the look on the Headmaster's face, Harry knew that Dumbledore was giving him the opportunity to let it all out.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to do it," he blurted without thinking. "I mean, if only looking at the Dark Mark does this to my scar, what will happen if I have to face him? What will happen if I can't concentrate hard enough because of the pain, or worse—what if I pass out?"

Harry said all this in a rush, leaving himself almost breathless.  Every insecurity built up inside him until all he could do was look at Dumbledore, his eyes pleading. 

Dumbledore sat up in his chair and leaned forward, his own eyes looking very harshly into Harry's.  Not for the first time, Harry felt a steadfast power glowing in them.

"You award yourself far less faith than you deserve, Harry," Dumbledore said in a low voice.  "In all your years under my guidance you have yet to disappoint me. I have faith in you—I trust you.  You are more than prepared for what is to come—it is now time for you to appreciate this—and use it to your advantage." 

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and turned to look out the window—the Mark was visible from inside his office and the vision was an absolute nightmare. The gray stone of the castle was lit with a sickly green glow as the mark, now much bigger and brighter floated above it like a ghost.

Dumbledore spoke softly.  "The Dark Mark is ironically a very precious gift to you, Harry. Use it. Use it to your advantage." Then his eyes met Harry's.  "Use it to help you."

Harry swallowed, his throat very dry.  "I should… look at it then…?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Very frequently.  Make yourself available to it… feel the pain it brings you and learn from it.  If you find yourself losing confidence, think about this: You have an advantage over Lord Voldemort, Harry.  The minute your blood began to seep through his veins, you became his equal—in power and in strength."

Harry frowned, confused.  "What do you mean, I've an advantage?"

"When Voldemort tried to kill you as a baby, his powers became yours and when you helped to bring him to life three years ago, your powers became his… only his scar is unseen.  It lives inside of him… as it lived in you.  It will surface if and when he is close to you."  

Harry stared. "You mean … Voldemort…"

"He will be affected by you as you are affected by him, Harry."

Harry shook his head, unable to believe it that Voldemort would suffer as Harry did when they were close. "But his powers are far more advanced than mine, he can certainly find a way round it…?"

Dumbledore leaned forward again.  "I shall repeat what I said—you award yourself far less faith than you deserve, Harry. If he can find a way, so shall you," his eyes flickered to window and then back to Harry with a flash of triumph shining in them. "And I am rather certain that Lord Voldemort does not expend his time or his resources on that particular obstacle." 

As Harry stared up at Dumbledore he remembered a night three years ago, when they'd been sitting in this very office. He had showed Dumbledore where Wormtail cut his arm and had had to relive the entire night. He also remembered the many times he had sat in this office, seeking advice, or just comfort… and Dumbledore had never failed him once. Suddenly Harry had a great fear realized. He looked up at the Headmaster and held his gaze.

"I don't want to disappoint you, Professor… I'm scared I… I won't be able to do this."

Once again, Dumbledore leaned forward and his eyes burned into Harry's. 

"All I have for you is loyalty, Harry. And that shall remain so no matter what the outcome. You need to have faith in yourself and what you can accomplish. Nothing will be possible if you don't." 

Harry felt his throat clog up and, after a brief pause, he nodded. 

Dumbledore sat back then and in a business-like tone, he continued.  "There is something else I need to discuss with you, Harry. It regards Ginny Weasley."

Harry's spine went up.

"With the mark over the castle, and from what my sources tell me… I did not want to resort to this and I have been hoping to hold off as long as possible, but time is short. We need to move very quickly."

"What does that mean?" Harry demanded hoarsly.

"Miss Weasley has knowledge of situations or places we may need to know about. Unfortunately she cannot access this information without assistance. As I said, time is short and we need the information now. There is a potion called _Venenum Sopor_  that is designed to close down the mind and open the subconscious. The person under the influence of the potion can access parts of the subconscious that is otherwise hidden. Miss Weasley will need to be put into this state so we can gather the information we need from her."  

Harry started at the Headmaster. "Is this…? I mean will she… be okay?"

Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry. "There is a risk involved, Harry. She knows this, as does her family, but as I said, we have to move quickly."

"Risk?" Harry asked, finding it suddenly difficult to breath.

"There is a time limit where this potion is concerned.  I'm not worried that we will pass the time limit, however the length of time in which the mind undergo this state and not…suffer damage varies from person to person."

Harry swallowed. His heart was racing with a kind of panic that until now was foreign to him.  "Is there any way round this? Can we just…?"  

He broke off, knowing that there was no other way. The Dark Mark was rising over Hogwarts now and something had to be done. 

"If there was another solution, I would have already acted on it, Harry.  You will need to hear first-hand the information we gather, Harry, so you must be there during the process. Professor Snape will be administering the potion to her, and I will be there, of course. Do you have any questions, Harry?"

He stared wearily at Dumbledore and shook his head faintly.  The only question he had was, _"why?"_ He knew Dumbledore wouldn't have the answer to that any more than Harry himself did.

There was a knock at the door and Harry turned to see Professor Snape standing in the doorway.  

"It is ready, Headmaster."

Dumbledore stood swiftly and Harry did the same.

"Miss Weasley?" he asked Snape.

"She is waiting in the hospital wing with her brother."

"Administer the potion, Severus. Allow Mr. Weasley to stay as you do. We will wait until she is already sedated before entering."

Snape left with a nod.

"Let us go down, Harry. But first…" Dumbledore went to his cabinet and pulled out a very old-looking quill, it's plum feather swinging in the wind unnaturally, along with a thick roll of parchment. "This quill is intended to record information making use of all the senses—sound, site, smell. It can read fear or joy or most any genuine emotion. It has come in very useful at times." Then to Harry's surprise, Dumbledore's mustache quivered. "I must say that if Remus Lupin were to discover I have this in my possession, he would be quite furious. I forced him to document each and every training session by hand."

Clapping his own hand on Harry's shoulder, they left the room. 

To Be Continued…

**The Hidden Tower**


	16. Waiting

Title:  The Beginning of the End

Author: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

Classification: H/G R/H, multiple POV

Summary:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Spoilers: Through Goblet

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of  this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

_Reminder:_ Hermione is Head Girl and Justin is Head Boy. Just in case you forgot… ;-)  

Chapter Sixteen

Waiting

Harry didn't know what he expected to see upon entering the hospital wing, but indeed he hadn't expected Ginny to look so… normal.  She was propped on several pillows into an almost sitting position; her eyes were closed and her chest rose up and down gently with each breath she took. 

Snape was taking Ginny's pulse, his narrowed eyes focused on a pocket watch he was holding high in his other hand. Ron sat beside Ginny on the bed, his hand on her shoulder.  He looked more pale than Ginny.

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said gently, gesturing to a chair that was positioned at the foot of the bed.  Saying nothing, Ron allowed himself to be lead to the chair and Dumbledore sat down where Ron had been sitting.  Harry wouldn't have been able to sit if someone had forced him so he simply stood where he was at the foot of the next bed and tried not to focus on Ginny's face. 

At last, Snape looked up and nodded to Dumbledore. "She's there. Proceed quickly."

"Can you hear me…?" Dumbledore asked Ginny in a low voice.

Ginny's eyes remained closed, but her head tilted ever so slightly. "Yes." Her voice sounded very week, almost far away.  Ron caught Harry's eye and they exchanged the briefest of looks.  

Dumbledore continued.  "I need you share some information with me.  I need you to access the information you received while writing in a diary once belonging to a person by the name of Tom Riddle. Can you see that?"

There was a long pause and then, "Yes." It was that same lifeless voice she'd answered with before.  Harry almost shivered. It wasn't Ginny's voice at all.  

"Tell me all you know of a passage you once traveled down upon Tom Riddle's instructions, a passage that you opened with magic by roaming through the dungeons. Where is this passage located?"

"It's hidden."

"Where?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"I don't know."

"Where can you access it from?"

She turned her head slightly and whispered in a low, trance-like voice. "Go down into the dungeons, take the east corridor as far as you can.  You'll come to a hidden door that you can only see by the brown piece of stone at the bottom of the gray stone wall.  Understand that Ginny, the brown piece of stone.  Tap the brown stone with your wand and say _Alohomora!_  Do you understand, Ginny?  After you open the door, walk down the passage until you find yourself in a large room. Walk twenty-eight steps into the room and you should be standing on a completely round piece of stone. Tap the stone with your wand, Ginny, and say _Alohomora_!" 

She stopped then and Dumbledore leaned forward. "What happens after you tap the stone?"

"The stone opens," she said. She wasn't whispering anymore and even though her voice still sounded fairly vague, it was much more normal sounding than when she was quoting what Riddle had wrote to her. 

"Then what happens?" Dumbledore persisted.

"The stone opens and there is a another passageway. It's dark. It's long. There is no end to it." She paused and then began whispering dully again.  "This passageway, Ginny, is one of my greatest accomplishments."

"What else of the passage?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

There was a long pause and for a brief moment it looked as though Ginny's entire body was positioned in thought.  Then a second later she looked relaxed again and she spoke in the exact same monotone whisper. "This passageway, Ginny, is one of my greatest accomplishments."

"Do you know anything else of the passage?" 

"This passageway, Ginny, is one of my greatest accomplishments."

Dumbledore nodded and sat back, running a hand down his face. 

"She doesn't know anything else about it, Headmaster," said Snape in a low voice.  

"I know, Severus."

Harry took the moment to let out his breath. He felt pain in his hands and realized that his knuckles were cramped from clenching his fists. 

"Besides the dungeon passage and the Chamber of Secrets, is there any other secret location on Hogwarts grounds which Tom Riddle forced you to travel?"

Silence.

Dumbledore repeated the question loudly and it looked to Harry as if Ginny was in that same deep thought she'd been in a minute ago—her entire body was frozen, tensed— but this time she didn't relax.

Dumbledore stood very suddenly and Snape, seemingly reading his mind, grabbed an iron goblet on the bedside table. Before Harry had registered anything, Dumbledore was holding Ginny's head upright while Snape forced the liquid down her throat.

"_Finite Sopor_!" Dumbledore cried, pointing his wand at Ginny's temple.  Ginny's head still slumped against Dumbledore's palm and Snape move forward again with the potion and, gripping Ginny's chin forcefully, tilted the goblet back again.  The thin foam of the potion dripped down the sides of her mouth.

"_Finite_ _Sopor_!"

Nothing.

Harry's eyes darted to Ron who had let out a strangled cry. A crazed sort of fear gripped his heart and suddenly, everything seemed to stand still. Dumbledore was saying something to Snape and Snape was once again, pouring the potion down Ginny's throat—but it was all happening in slow motion.  There was a harsh screeching sound—Ron shot to his feet and the chair scraped the floor. Harry blinked quickly and had to physically force himself to loosen his fists again.  He wanted to run out of the room.

"_Finite_ _Sopor_!"

Still nothing. The liquid spilled from her mouth down her neck and soaked the collar of her dressing robe, but Ginny still didn't move.  

"_Finite_ _Sopor_!"

But then—

"_Ginny,_" Ron whispered.

She was choking and gasping, her chest heaving up and down unnaturally.  She looked like she had been underneath water for too long and was getting her first breath of air. Snape placed the goblet on the table and pressed his fingers to her neck, holding up the pocket watch again. As the seconds ticked by, Ginny's breathing became shallower.

"Her pulse is normal," Snape announced and he tucked the pocket watch inside his robes. 

"Is she okay?" Ron asked hoarsely.

Snape looked at him. "She'll be fine."

Harry allowed himself to breath and had to sit less his legs give way. Dumbledore removed some of the pillows and laid Ginny's head down very gently.  She clutched the pillow with her hand, still breathing in sharp gasps. Ron sank down next to her and smoothed her hair from her face.

"She'll be asleep for awhile," Dumbledore said. "It's nothing to worry about. There was no damage done to her.  She would not be breathing if there had been."

Madam Pomfrey came over at once.

"Mr. Weasley is to stay, Poppy. Harry," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.  Harry tore his eyes from Ginny and saw that Dumbledore had gathered his quill.  "You need to come with me."

            Harry nodded, filled with gratitude to have the excuse to leave—he wanted to get as far away from here as he could.  

            ~*~ 

Later on that day, Harry found himself inside the Great Hall, having a late lunch. Dumbledore had insisted upon it and since the entire school had already been escorted to and from the Great Hall for their lunch, the Hall was quite deserted. 

Dumbledore had called in his team directly after they'd left the hospital wing. Having Sirius and Lupin there was quite a relief and they had all gone into the dungeons where the secret passageway was located.  They opened the first passage through the brown stone and stepped into the room exactly as Ginny had described.  However, when each of them touched the round stone in the center of the room, exactly nothing happened. Lupin and Professor Figg, along with a few of the Aurors spent hours performing many kinds of Revealing Charms to discover the type of magic used in the room, but it was to no avail; the stone stayed in solid form.

And so after four hours of staring at a round piece of stone, Harry was relieved to be dismissed.  He had no idea what this passage was for and for once he didn't want to analyze what it could mean.  That was why the experts were here.

He heard footsteps in the hall and looked up to see Hermione walking towards him.  

"Dumbledore said you'd be here," she said breathlessly, sliding into the seat across from him.  "I am so hungry. I've barely eaten a thing all day; Justin and I have been supervising the common rooms."

She began to heap food onto a plate and Harry leaned forward. "What been going on out there? I mean with the school and everything? Where is everyone?"

"In the common rooms, of course," she said thickly, chewing a piece of bread. She closed her eyes and sighed.  "This is good." Then she took a long sip of juice.  "I've just been to see Ginny."

Harry lifted his eyes. "How is she?"

"She's okay.  She hasn't woken up yet, but Ron is with her and Dumbledore says she'll be fine. He didn't really discuss what happened with me, but I gather it wasn't very helpful."

Harry sighed.  "Well, she didn't say much more than what she'd written down from her last dream, but they were able to get the location of this… passage thing. Anyway—"

"Well, then it was very helpful, wasn't it? Even if it wasn't earth-shattering information, it was still very helpful. Have you been practicing with the Dark Mark?"

Harry dropped his fork and stared at her in confusion. "What?" 

"Dumbledore said—you know, you're supposed to look at it now, right?"

 "Yeah—when did he tell you all this?"

"Justin and I had a brief meeting with him a little while ago. Right before I went to see Ginny. He took me aside and said that you and I should go outside and look at it—he doesn't want you to do it alone."

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes. He was getting a headache and it had nothing to do with his scar.

"Anyway, about the Dark Mark.  You have to practice looking at it; it's the only thing you can do right now.  So I've come up with a strategy. Here's what I think—"

"Hermione?" Harry interrupted her suddenly. 

"Hmm?"

"Can we … not talk about all of this for maybe five minutes? Just five minutes okay?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and Harry almost jumped in fright at how much she reminded him of McGonagal. Then she sobered. 

"Okay.  I understand, Harry. Go ahead and eat, we'll talk about it after lunch."

Harry wondered how long he could stretch out eating his lunch.

~*~

Looking at the Dark Mark was not fun to say the least.  Harry spent nearly two hours outside with Hermione.  Hermione's "strategy" had been fairly simple.  She and Harry would walk around the lake and Harry was to look up at the mark every ten steps, the length of time he would spend looking at it increasing steadily.  At first he only needed to look at it for five seconds and then the time doubled.  After two hours he was staring at the bloody thing for three whole minutes and his scar was burning beyond belief.  He didn't pass out, though.  Every time he felt himself slip, he focused even harder, trying to put something else in his mind.  It barely worked, but trying kept him focused—something he'd been very worried about.  

After two hours, Hermione needed to get back to her Head Girl duties, so Harry decided to take a break from looking at it. As he walked up to Gryffindor Tower, he passed the stairway leading to the hospital wing and paused.  He wanted to go there and see how Ginny was… but something had him continuing up to Gryffindor Tower. There wasn't anything he could do for Ginny besides make her worry. Her part in this terrible ordeal was over… and he felt a terrifying jolt every time he thought about the sacrifice she'd almost had to make.

The common room was packed.  Nearly every single Gryffindor was piled in there—all the chairs and sofas were occupied and many people lounged on the floor.  Some were involved in card games or Gobstone games and some were just talking.  The air was thick with tension and green light flooded through the corner window onto the window seat, which was the only empty place to sit in the entire room.  Harry passed Dean, Seamus and Neville who were playing a game of Exploding Snap.

"Join us, Harry?" Dean asked, glancing up.  The others looked at him and Harry could see the worry in their eyes, but they tried to look as casual as if they were asking him for a game at any old time. The alternative, going up to the dormitory seemed very bleak, so Harry shrugged a shoulder and said, 

"Alright."

After a while, Professor McGonagal came into the room to escort everyone to dinner and since Harry had eaten only a short time ago, the Professor allowed him to stay in the common room.  He was just beginning  to wonder if he should go down to dinner if only for the company when the portrait hole swung open and Ron climbed inside.

"I was just about to go to dinner, but I thought I'd come up here to tell you that Ginny's woken up."

Harry lowered his eyes back to the book he had open across his lap. "How is she?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"She's okay. What are you doing?" 

Harry glanced up at the annoyance in Ron's voice. "I'm reading." 

"Like hell."

Harry lifted his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Ron crossed his arms. "What are you doing? Seriously."

"I'm reading. You know, between you and Hermione, I'm about to go mad!"  

"Why haven't you been to check on her?"

Harry looked away.  "I've been busy," he said at last.

"Busy reading?" Ron retorted.

Harry slammed his book shut. "Not anymore, apparently."

"Well?" Ron pushed.

"Well, what?" Harry very nearly exploded.  "What are you onabout?" 

"Are you going to go down there?"

Harry blew out a breath. "I can't. I have things I need to do."

"Like what?"

"Like… practice looking at the Dark Mark," he spat. "Like thinking about what the hell I'm supposed to do when I pass out trying to face Voldemort. That sort of thing." 

To Harry's absolute frustration, Ron rolled his eyes.  "You want to lie to yourself, fine. You want to lie to me, _fine_, but _don't_ drag my sister into it."

"This isn't about Ginny." 

"Right," said Ron sarcastically.

"Look, what do want from me? What—? Just tell me and get it over with, won't you?"  

"I want you to go and see her!" Ron retorted. "She asked about you—she's _worried_ about you and you're sitting up here _reading_?"

"Well, she shouldn't be," Harry said, trying to shake the guilt away.

"It's too late now."

No it wasn't. 

"Look I should never have… her role in this finished now… she shouldn't have to be involved anymore. It's not right, so I'm just going to… what?" he asked, startled at the way Ron was looking at him. His eyes were narrowed and he looked ready to kill.  

"You're just going to… what, Harry?" he asked in a low voice.  "Stop… talking to her?"

Harry looked away. "It's probably for the best that I do."

"You're right," said Ron softly.  "You _are_ going mad."

"I don't want to talk about this right now—"

"She knows what you're trying to do—"

"I'm going upstairs."

"Harry—"

But Harry didn't let him finish, he slammed the door and stormed up the stairs.

~*~

When Ginny awoke, she immediately squinted at the bright light harassing her eyes.  She wanted to sit up, but her head was still a bit cloudy, so she turned to see if there were any other patients in the wing.  Nope… it was only her in the large, spotless room… just as she'd been alone a couple of hours ago when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, desperately wanting someone to talk to… and just as a few hours before that when Ron had finally left, his eyelids drooping.  

Ginny had found many ways to occupy her time during last night. She'd counted the number of windows and candles in the room.  Then she'd counted the number of beds and realized with mild surprise that there were the same number of beds as there were windows.  She counted the wooden arches on the ceiling, the number of paintings on the wall. She'd met and spoken with the woman who lived the in the painting just next to her bedside. Her name was named Mary and she was planning to attend a ball in a painting of a French Ballroom located on the fifth floor. 

After Mary had left for the ball, Ginny had been left alone to go over everything that had transpired that day, to play out in her mind, the information everyone had given her about what was transpiring in the school. 

When Ginny had first woken up from the potion, she'd bombarded everyone she could with questions of whether or not she'd been helpful.  Her inquiries, however, weren't answered as fast they were asked.  Madam Pomfrey didn't know anything at all because she hadn't been in the room during the process.  Ron avoided any questions she had on the events of the _Venenum Sopor _by telling her that it was all "fine" and that she'd been "a great help." Ginny had gotten the feeling that Ron wasn't comfortable talking about the subject. 

So Ginny had asked him all the other questions she had.  What was going on inside the school? What everyone was doing with the absence of lessons? How was Hermione managing her Head Girl duties? And the one she wanted answered most of all: How was Harry dealing with everything? To these questions, Ron answered rather thoroughly—except to the question on Harry.  

"Harry's fine," he'd said.  "He always deals with everything his own way."

And that's all she'd heard from Ron on the subject of Harry.

Hermione had been a bit more substantial, although her visit had been short-lived as she was very busy with Dumbledore's instructions.  She'd said that Harry was "okay," that he was supposed to look at the Dark Mark as a sort of practice. Hermione had also explained that Dumbledore had suggested she go outside with him after lunch as he didn't want Harry doing it on his own.

"I wish I knew more, Gin," Hermione had said.  "But the truth is, I haven't seen him all day." 

Just then Madam Pomfrey came bustling through the door and Ginny lifted her head in hopes that it was a visitor.  She lay back down when she saw her.  

"How are you, dear?" she asked Ginny, feeling her forehead and taking her pulse.

"I'm doing better. Much better. Madam Pomfrey, when will I be able to leave?"

"Not for a while, dear. Your brother was here earlier this morning—you were still asleep."  

"Oh." Ginny was disappointed that she missed him.  "Well, what time is it now?"

"Half past noon," the nurse said absentmindedly, using a strange magical instrument to take Ginny's blood pressure.

"Noon? I can't believe I slept so—" she was cut off when Madam Pomfrey shoved a wooden stick in her mouth to gouge her fever.

"Everything's normal," she informed her cheerfully.

Ginny sat up a little and looked at her hopefully. "So I'll be able to leave much sooner, right?"

"I'm afraid not, dear. You can't do anything strenuous. You'll be very weak for a while, possibly a few weeks."

"A few weeks? I can't stay here that long, Madam Pomfrey. Please— I promise I won't do anything strenuous."

"I'm sorry dear. Try and sleep now; it'll do you good."  And she left. 

Ginny slumped back into her pillow and groaned.  She would be much better off on the sofa in the common room surrounded by her friends and being able to discuss everything than laying here alone in bed.  She would be getting the same rest as she was now and her friends would be a nice diversion to help her not worry so much. Being alone only made her think the worst and worry herself over every little thing.  She'd spent the better part of the night in a cold sweat thinking about that day at the lake when Harry had opened that letter and the Dark Mark had risen out. It was floating over the castle now.  The war was coming to Hogwarts and they were all right in the middle of it.

It was comforting to know that Hogwarts was still the safest place to be, but it wasn't so comforting when Ginny thought about her family. If Hogwarts was the safest, even with Voldemort targeting it, then what must it be like out there, without any protection? She couldn't imagine waking up without knowing Albus Dumbledore was right there.

Ginny closed her eyes and thought about Harry.  She feared for him… and for herself.  She feared losing him and she knew that was selfish, but she didn't care.  _He could die_, she'd told herself once, but refused to think it again. There was no way to prepare herself for that… no way.  

It didn't help that Harry hadn't been to see her at all.  She knew he was probably very busy, but she had a sinking feeling why he hadn't even sent her a message or stopped by for at least five minutes.  She knew how he worked and she knew he'd been there when Dumbledore had questioned her under the influence of the _Venenum Sopor_.  He was wallowing in his stupid guilt and if she weren't lying in a bed, she would march up to him and tell him to stop this nonsense and talk to her. Perhaps she would even start a fight about it.  But then she told herself, that was Harry. He always closed up inside his guilt and she needed to bring him back to reality—but she couldn't do that because she was stuck in a hospital bed.

Just when Ginny had started counting the number of stones surrounding each window, Hermione poked her head inside the door. "Awake?"

"Yes!" Ginny said excitedly, struggling to sit up.  The movement left her a bit breathless, and her head began swimming slightly, but she didn't care.  She was more thrilled to see Hermione at that moment than ever.

"How are you?" she smiled at Ginny as she plopped down onto the side of the bed.

"Oh, I'm fine. Much better. What's going on out there? Any change?"

"Not really. The Aurors are still trying to access whatever it is they discovered, but Dumbledore's being really vague about the entire thing.  And Harry—" she broke off and looked a bit awkward.

"What? What about Harry?" Ginny asked. "Please, Hermione, tell me what's going on with him. Ron won't tell me anything, and Harry hasn't even been by—please. I have to know what's going on out there and… and how he's doing."

Hermione nodded, understanding in her eyes. "He's okay," she said in a low voice.  "He's handling everything like he always does—you know—"

"Keeping it all to himself?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed.  "But we walked around outside yesterday so he could look at the Dark Mark and he didn't pass out.  It actually went very well."

            "Really?" she asked, glad to hear anything that resembled good news.

            "Yep."

            Ginny sighed. "But other than that, I mean to say, is he… okay?"

            Hermione bit her lip.  "I won't lie to you—he's having a hard time of it.  But he said that Dumbledore told him he has complete faith in him, so… I trust Dumbledore knows what he's talking about."

            Ginny smiled despite herself at Hermione's attempt at a joke.  

Just then the door opened and Ron came through. Ginny sat up a little more—and her eyes lit up when she saw what he was holding in his hands. It was an ugly pair of brown fuzzy socks.  

A grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, Ron tossed the balled pair at her and she caught it.  

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling happily and throwing off her covers to pull them on her feet.

"I don't get it," Hermione said peering at Ginny oddly.  "Why are you happy he's giving you his socks?"

"Because she's insane," Ron quipped.

"Because they are the best second hand clothes in the entire family—and the only second hand clothes I can wear—at least from my own family and not some shop. They're the softest, fuzziest socks ever because they've been worn so many times. See?"  She stuck out her foot and Hermione felt the socks.  

"Oooh! Can I have a pair?" she asked, turning to Ron.

"Ha!" said Ron.

"Sorry, Hermione," Ginny said, sitting up more. "This is the first time he's let me wear them, and I beg him daily."

"And she steals them hourly," Ron retorted. But he was still smirking.

Ginny shot him a look. "Like you count your socks."

"Watch it, or I'll take them back with no regret."

"Oh, you'd regret it alright," Ginny said. 

"That settles it. I've changed my mind," said Ron, grabbing Ginny's foot.

"Don't. I'm sick," she said in the overly pathetic voice she used so many times on her brothers. It sounded extra convincing this time since her voice was already a bit hoarse from the potion.

"That may work with Bill, but not with me," he said. But he threw her foot back onto the bed, sock still on.

"Don't!" Hermione scolded him, then gasped when she looked at her watch.  "I've got to go! Justin is waiting. We're supposed to brief the common rooms.  I'll be back, Gin," Hermione said to her and she squeezed her foot before rushing out.

"Bye," Ginny said and turned back to Ron. Suddenly, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.  "Woah," she said, putting a hand up to her head.  

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, his face going pale.  "Do you want me to get—"

"No, no, don't get Madam Pomfrey; I'm fine. I'm just… I probably shouldn't be sitting up so much."

"You should be asleep," Ron snapped as he awkwardly helped her lay down. "And not awake entertaining people."

"Entertain?" she asked weekly, laying her head onto the pillow and loving the coldness of it against her cheek.  "It was only Hermione." 

"Still—yesterday all your little friends were coming in and out of here; it's too much, Ginny."

"You sound like Madam Pomfrey, Ron. Or worse—Mum."

"I'm just trying to make sure your okay," he said furiously. "Is that so terrible?"

"No," she said looking up at him as he tucked the covers around her. Her head was still spinning and her limbs were starting to hurt and suddenly she felt another kind of ache that was so much more devastating. Her Mum didn't sound too bad at all.  

"Madam Pomfrey said I wasn't well, but I didn't believe her. I want to leave, Ron."

"Look, Gin, it's not much better out there, believe me.  Everyone's sitting around acting like someone's died; nobody talks or does much."

"No," she whispered.  "I meant I want to leave and go home.  I want Mum." Her eyes filled with tears.  It was a culmination of spending the entire night up worrying alone and hurting something terrible every time she thought about her family.  She wiped furiously at her eyes—the crying was making her head pound.  

"I know," Ron whispered.  "I want to go home, too, but… I don't know how safe it is there."

"Don't say that. It's safe. Mum and Dad—"

"Can take care of themselves, but not everyone.  They can't take care of everyone and from what it says in the paper… it's gotten really bad out there."

"D'you think… d'you think everyone is… okay?" she asked in a small voice.

Ron nodded.  "Sure they are.  We'd have heard something. Dumbledore would tell us if… well, he wouldn't keep anything from us."

 Ginny nodded. "I s'pose your right. Don't you wish we were all together right now?  I feel like… I feel like something is about to happen—we know it is—and here we are, all alone."

"We're not… exactly alone," Ron said. "I mean, at least… at least we're together, you know?"

Ginny stared up at him and then began to nod.  "Yeah."  It hit her suddenly what all this must be like for Ron.  He probably felt like he had to take care of her in the absence of their parents.  And she could tell he felt as though he wasn't doing a very good job of it.  They stared at each other for a long minute before Ginny smiled a little and wiggled her feet. "Thanks for the socks."

Ron smirked and got up from his chair to sit on the edge of her bed.  "Anytime."

"I don't have to steal them anymore, because I'm keeping these," she said, burrowing her head further into the pillow. 

"I figured as much."

"I'll probably wear them out," she said, lifting her foot to look at the sock again.  It was hideously ugly, but she'd never

been so happy to own something in her whole life.  She giggled suddenly when she thought about something.  "Remember when I used to steal them when they were still Bill's? I was about six and they came all the way up to my thighs."

            "Mum went around saying her only daughter wanted to be a boy. She was so devastated."

            She laughed and then, out of nowhere, yawned loudly.  They both laughed.  

            "Wonder where that came from," she joked.

            "You're tired. You should sleep, Ginny."

            "I don't want to sleep," she said grumpily and killed her point by yawning again.

            "Looks like you don't have a choice," Ron said, lifting brow.  

            "Okay, but you have to promise to use your Divination experience to know exactly when I wake up so you'll come back and talk to me," she said, giving up and closing her eyes.  It felt really good. 

"I'll do one better," he said and flopped down onto the next bed.  "I'll already be here. It'd save me the trouble."

" 'Kay," she mumbled and drifted off.

And indeed, Ron stayed.  When she woke up later on, he was still there, now reading a comic that he'd brought to Ginny yesterday.  They talked some more—he told her that Hermione had stopped by to brief him on everything. There was still no change with the Aurors and Harry was with them trying to find ways to open this passageway.  When she asked if Harry had stopped by, Ron couldn't meet her eyes and told her that he hadn't. But she hadn't expected him to.

Ron left only to eat dinner, and then he was back and Ginny almost hugged him when she saw what he had brought her this time.  It was her sketchbook and pencils.  Ron let her draw him and they had a good laugh while she did.  Hermione came in to visit again and Ginny wound up sketching the both of them making funny faces at each other.  The laughter felt good.  

They didn't speak about the war once. 

When nightfall came, Madam Pomfrey ushered Ron and Hermione out and Ginny was left alone. After sleeping so much during the day, she wasn't very tired.  She turned over on her side, hugged her pillow and tried not to worry.  But it all flooded into her mind, every single fear.  

After a while, she heard the door to the hospital wing open and when she turned over she felt almost weak from relief.  It was Harry and he was standing there looking like he was lost.

"I scared you…?" he asked quietly.

"No," she whispered.  "No, it's okay." She started to sit up, but he shook his head.

"Don't. Don't get up, you should… you should be resting. I shouldn't be here."

"Don't leave," she said quickly. "Please."

He finally lifted his eyes to hers and Ginny felt a tug on her heart upon seeing that they were completely cautious.  

"I got permission to come. I can't stay long, I just…" 

"I'm glad you're here, Harry."

He nodded and sat down in the chair beside her bed, pulling his knees in so that they didn't touch the side of the mattress. He looked as if he were afraid she might break if he got any closer.

"How are you feeling, then?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm okay. I just get tired is all.  And I hate being here alone, it makes me worry."  

He shook his head.  "You shouldn't be worrying—"

"How are you doing?" 

"I'm fine, but, Ginny—"  
            "Don't say I shouldn't be worrying. What else am I to do?"

He dragged a hand down his face.  "Your part in all of this is over with, Ginny. You don't have to -"  

"Over with?" she whispered. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's the truth. It is," he said firmly when she shook her head. 

"Harry, nothing is over for me… for anyone.  We're all in this together and I can't see why you don't understand that."  

He looked away and Ginny pressed on.  

"I know why you haven't come to see me and I think its rubbish. We're all in danger, and it's not because we're close to you."

He shook his head and went to interrupt her, but she cut him off.

"Don't.  I know what you're going to say, and you're wrong. You can't save everyone." 

Harry sat back in his chair, staring out the window and his green eyes looked very bright all of a sudden. He started to say something, but broke off, his eyes darting every which way.  He let out a long breath.  

"I'm scared," he said in a very low voice.  "I'm scared of dying." It was as if he was realizing his fear out loud.  "And I'm scared of what that will mean to everyone else.  If I die, then… that means he'll win." He paused.  "My scar is killing me," he said at last. "It's killing me. I don't know how I'm here right now and not lying unconscious somewhere."

She lifted a brow. "The Dark Mark helped you.  Who would have thought?"

He laughed a humorless laugh and looked down.  "That's what Dumbledore said.  It is ironic, isn't it?"

She took a steadying breath.  "Did you look at it today?"

Harry nodded. "Lupin went with me. Gave me some tips, you know."

Ginny's lips quirked.  "I'll bet you were sorry Hermione didn't join you." 

Harry looked up and saw her smirk.  "She's driving me insane," he said at last.

Ginny smiled. "She means well."

"Oh, I know. But honestly, I don't know how Ron hasn't murdered her yet," he whispered, playing with the blanket on the side of her bed.     

"I don't think he knows either."

Harry nodded and they sat in silence for a while until, out of the blue, he asked incredulously, "Are those his socks?"

She blinked and looked down at her foot, which was sticking out of the blanket.  She held it up. 

"Yeah. He gave them to me."

Harry looked at her, and his eyes weren't so flat anymore—they were tinged with humor. "And you accepted them, because…?"

She wanted to keep the smile on his face so she elaborated and went into the entire story, not leaving anything out and telling more than was necessary. When it was done, Harry actually laughed.

"You ran around with Bill's socks on? Why?"

"I don't know.  I just loved them.  Bill thought it was cute, so he bought me a pair for Christmas once.  They were huge

 and ugly, and covered in little orange fuzz balls.  It drove Mum mad, and that only encouraged him. It was the best Christmas present I've ever gotten to this day."       

            "What happened to them?"

            "Fred used them to store his dungbombs in."

            "And that was the end of that."

            "Oh, yes," she said and again, without warning, she yawned.

            "You need to sleep. I should go," he said immediately.

            She was about to protest, but found she didn't have the energy.  "Can I ask you a favor?"

            He leaned forward. "Sure, anything."

            "Can you stay until I fall asleep? I hate being in here alone."

            There was a change in his eyes…they softened somehow.  "Yeah, sure."

            "Thank you," she whispered.  Their eyes locked.  She didn't know how she knew it, but Ginny knew that Harry was feeling the same things she was.  He looked down then, sliding his chair a bit closer to toy with her fingers.

            Ginny sighed softly and felt her eyelids begin to droop as Harry's fingertips traced small circles over her knuckles.  She allowed her eyes to shut.  But then the door creaked open and they both jumped. It was Madam Pomfrey and she was rushing towards them.

            "Remus Lupin is waiting for you out there," she said briskly to Harry.  "You're to report to Dumbledore's office immediately."

            Ginny sat up as Harry shot to his feet. 

"What's happened?" she asked, climbing out of bed clumsily.

            "All I know is that we need to evacuate the students onto the grounds. Now. You'll need a dressing robe," she said, hurrying to a closet.

            Ginny looked at Harry and the answer was there in his face. Tears of protest filled her eyes. She wasn't ready for this… not yet.  She grabbed his hand and nearly gasped when he squeezed hers so tightly.  His eyes were filled with fear and they burned into hers.  She felt like her fingers were about to break as she stared back at him.

            Madam Pomfrey rushed back with her robe.  "You have to go. Go. Remus Lupin is waiting for you just outside," she said to Harry.

            She helped Ginny into the robe as Harry started to walk backwards.  

"Bye," he said.

She couldn't say it, so she nodded her head and tried to look reassuring, but when he turned around and started walking away, she panicked.  

"Bye," she called to him.

Harry turned and when he did, Ginny saw that his eyes had changed.  They were darker now and radiating with resolve. 

"I'll see you later, then," he said quietly. 

Ginny nodded, staring at him and feeling a thrill of confidence that she couldn't explain when Harry pushed through the doors. They slammed closed, echoing in the darkened room and Ginny squeezed her eyes tight before allowing Madam Pomfrey to lead her out.

To Be Continued

**The Hidden Tower**


	17. The End

Title:  The Beginning of the End

Author: Casca Casccara@yahoo.com

Classification: H/G R/H, multiple POV

Summary:  Spans the course of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, detailing Harry's struggle with the path that has been chosen for him and the roles his friends play to aid him in the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Spoilers: Through Goblet

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All characters and names used in these fics are the legal property and creative work of JK Rowling and/or Warner Bros.  

Author's note: For the sake of this story, it has already been established that Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Also, for the sake of this story, Sirius' name has been cleared; however, Harry was unable to live with him seeing as they were both targets of Voldemort.  That's all for now. Enjoy! :D

_Reminder:_ Hermione is Head Girl and Justin is Head Boy. Just in case you forgot… ;-)  

Chapter Seventeen

The End

_~Ron~_

Around one am, Ron awoke to complete chaos.  He heard his name being shouted and he sat up, drawing his hangings back to see Seamus, Dean and Neville scurrying around, pulling shoes onto their feet.

            "We've got to go out onto the grounds," Seamus said, his voice shaking as he grabbed a cloak and dashed for the door. "The castle's being evacuated!" 

            His heart pounding, Ron yanked his covers off and shot to his feet.  He grabbed his shoes and as he bent to pull them on with shaking hands, his eyes fell on Harry's bed.  

            "Where's Harry?" he demanded of Neville.

            "I don't know," he said in a shaking voice.  "I was the first to wake up and Harry wasn't here. Hurry, Ron."

            And with that, Neville ran out leaving Ron alone. He stood in the middle of the room, shaking all over. 

Ginny's face flashed in his mind… and he heard the words she'd said to him before he'd left last night. " 'Night… I love my socks."  Hermione's face appeared as well, and her own uncharacteristically sweet words when he'd walked her up to the door of the girls' dormitory before bedtime. 

"Have sweet dreams," she'd whispered and leaned up on her toes to kiss him.

Ron saw everything… his mum and dad… his brothers… Fred and George's huge identical grins… Percy laughing at them… Bill and Charlie wrestling and breaking Mum's dishes… Ginny running around in Bill's socks…  He heard voices, loud and panicked, that were coming from the staircase below as people rushed out of their dormitories and into the common room.  

It was then that Ron made a decision. As if being startled out of a dream, he sprinted to Harry's trunk, grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and hid himself before racing out of the room.  

_~Hermione~_

"Everyone needs to stay calm, that's the most important thing. Stay calm and focus on walking quickly. Come on now."

Students filed down the stairs into the Entrance Hall and out the front doors of the school.

"Are we going to die?" asked a first year girl with tears in her eyes.

"No, of course not!" Hermione said, placing a shaking hand on the young girl's shoulder as she helped her down the steps.  "Just follow everyone outside… see Professor McGonagal out there?  She'll show you where to go."

Hermione's eyes scanned the crowd. The entire school was passing her, running outside.  She'd seen Ginny being led by Madam Pomfrey and she knew where Harry must be… but of course, Ron hadn't made an appearance. Hermione could almost be angry with him for pulling this. 

The seventh year boys thundered down the steps and Hermione grabbed Dean by the arm.

"Where's Ron? Have you seen him?"

"He's on his way down," Seamus assured her before they ran out.

Frustrated, her eyes filled with tears. Where _was_ he?  Why wasn't he running out like everyone else?  It looked as if all of Gryffindor had already been down.  Why did he have to be the one who couldn't be found? 

Then it hit her.  She brought a shaking hand up to her temple… everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She knew it… she knew where Ron was and she pressed her other hand to her stomach in denial. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Hermione, go," Justin said, looking at her in concern.  He was across the hall directing people as well.  "Get out there. I've got this under control."

"No, I'm fine," she said, her voice breaking.  She gave up and let the tears fall as the traffic became thinner, as people flew down in small groups instead of crowds, until it was only one or two students at a time.  

And then a huge, rumbling sound filled her ears—the staircase began to crack and split—Hermione screamed and covered her head as the walls surrounding her trembled. 

_~Harry~_

Harry halted when he stepped outside the hospital wing. He stood still for a moment, feeling the same sensations as earlier in the day when Snape had been pouring the potion down Ginny's throat.  Time had stood still then, and as Harry approached Lupin now, he felt that same icy numbness… that same wild fear spreading though his veins. His scar still burned at his forehead; the level of pain was high indeed, but he was used to it and he didn't think about what would happen if it increased.  He couldn't think about it.

"We'll take the short-cut up to Dumbledore's office," was all Lupin said.  

Harry followed him a ways down the corridor and stopped at a large painting, which swung open when Lupin gave it a password.  They both stepped inside and Harry found himself in a passage he'd never seen before.  Once they were enclosed, Harry followed Lupin, who was ducking under the low ceiling and speaking. 

"There was strange activity in that dungeon—at the entrance to the passage.  The Aurors were sensing magic even though nobody was performing anything. This combined with a signal we only just received from Professor Snape means that it's happening tonight."

"Did the stone open?" Harry asked flatly.

"No. They think you'll be able to do it, Harry."

Harry swallowed and a kind of frozen shield inside him began to grow.  He was thankful for it.  He knew he was scared—but he didn't feel it somehow.

They reached the end of the passage and stopped in front of a painting Harry recognized from the spiral staircase leading to Dumbledore's office.  Sure enough, when Lupin gave the password, the painting opened and the door to the headmaster's office appeared directly in front of them. When they entered the office, Sirius went to Harry immediately.  

There were more Aurors than Harry could count; more than he'd worked with in the dungeons yesterday and he got the feeling that they surrounded the castle.  Professor Figg was there and she touched Harry's shoulder before moving to stand next to Lupin.  There was a loud _clunk_ and Harry turned to see Mad-Eye Moody moving around the office with something Harry recognized as a Dark Detector.  

"Where's Dumbledore?" he asked.

"He's hidden, Harry," Lupin said, drawing his wand.  Professor Figg did the same.

Sirius spoke quickly. "Hogwarts is surrounded by Death Eaters, Harry. I imagine they're inside the castle now.  We know that Voldemort's here and Snape confirmed that the passage will lead us to him. Only you will be able to open it."

Cold shivers raced down Harry's back.  "Why hasn't he come after me?" 

"He knows you're coming to him. He thinks he knows exactly what we're planning, but it's going to backfire on him."

Harry said nothing. He wanted to shout out what he felt, what had jumped into his mind at that moment: that Snape was betraying them, that Voldemort really did know the truth of it all. But Harry set his jaw and stifled his panic. Somewhere deep down he knew that he would forever be wrong about Snape.

"We have to go now."  It was Mad-Eye Moody.

Harry saw that Lupin, Professor Figg, Mad-Eye, and the rest of the Aurors all had the same determined expression on their faces.  Lupin turned to Harry.

"I have complete faith in you, Harry," he said—the same words Dumbledore had said.

Harry thought of long days in a musty room training for the spell he had to perform tonight.  He thought of his Patronus… and his father. 

They started to leave and Harry saw Professor Figg pause before following Lupin out.  She looked Sirius square in the face and Sirius nodded slowly, holding her gaze intently.  Then she left.  

Harry started to ask Sirius why he wasn't going with them, but his godfather cut him off.

"I'm staying with you, Harry. Let's go."

There was another "secret" passage entrance located in the spiral staircase, which Sirius explained would take them into a corridor near the Entrance Hall; this would help them reach the dungeons quicker.  Harry wondered why he'd never paid attention to these passages before—he was sure they would appear on the Marauder's Map. 

The Map…. A flood of memories began to replay themselves in Harry's mind as he walked in the deep, dark passage.  He saw himself in his third year and he could practically hear Fred and George. _"This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school_."  

Harry's first instinct was to push these thoughts away—he couldn't be distracted.  But when he started to rid himself of the picture of Fred and George tackling Ginny over the summer, the beginnings of panic crept up. So he let himself get lost in thought and scene upon scene formed behind his eyes.

He was going to Hogsmeade for the first time under the Invisibility Cloak. He was throwing mud in Malfoy's face.  He was meeting Malfoy at midnight to duel and Hermione was complaining the entire way. He was playing Quidditch and winning the Quidditch Cup.  He was at the World Cup and walking around the forest and seeing Cho.  He was riding Buckbeak with Hermione and they were saving Sirius.  He was crashing the car into the Whomping Willow and hearing Mrs. Weasley's voice booming in the Great Hall.  He was at the very first Yule Ball and he and Ron were spying on Hagrid.  He was watching Ginny and Ron dance at this past Yule Ball.  He was joking about Ginny's socks.  He was hearing her words, the last words she'd said to him before he'd left. 

A pain was forming behind his chest, but when Sirius stopped at yet another painting, Harry forced his mind to empty.  

"Raise your wand, Harry, and stay behind me."

Harry closed his eyes before taking a deep breath.  The painting creaked open and Sirius stepped through, his own wand raised and ready.  Harry could only see Sirius' back and he braced himself for some kind of noise… but there was nothing but silence.  

"God," came Sirius's harsh voice.  

Harry stepped through and his heart began to pound.  It was completely dark, except for the quivering light from the only remaining torch on the wall.  His foot crunched on crumbled stone and broken glass from windows that were shattered.  Harry shivered—it was freezing because of the broken windows.  There was noise, lots of it, but it was distant. Walls were cracked, statues were broken, and doors were laying on the floor, blasted into pieces.  As Harry's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw something else… something to make his heart stop.  He grabbed Sirius' arm, but Sirius had already seen.

"Moony."

Harry moved towards Lupin's body, which was slumped against a crumbled statue, but Sirius yanked the back of Harry's robes.

"Don't. We have to go."

"But shouldn't we—"  
            "He's gone, Harry." His voice was flat. "Come on."

He felt himself being pulled down the corridor, but he could only stare back at Lupin's face. 

"This is wrong, we shouldn't… leave him," Harry choked.  

"We have to go, Harry," said Sirius, gripping Harry's arm firmly.  Harry saw that his hand was shaking.  

And then something happened to make both Harry and Sirius yank their wands in the air.  A huge cloud of dust rose from the floor and skidding noises sounded against the gravel.  

Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and, breathless, turned to Harry. "I've been looking all over for you."

All Harry could do was gape at him. "_What_…?" 

"You're supposed to be outside in the protection circle," Sirius said sharply.

"No, I'm not," said Ron impatiently, looking back and forth between the two. "Let's go. The dungeons, right?"

Harry stared at him, something very powerful crashing behind his chest. "Don't be stupid," he said.  "Get out there, Ron."

"I'm going where you're going."

"Are you _mad_?" Harry hissed. "_Get out there_!"  
            "No. I'm going with you."

"No, you're not," said Harry between clenched teeth.

But Ron's face was set.  "Yes, I am.  What did you think I was going to do? Let you go without me?"

"I don't need you there," Harry spat, trying to make him angry so that he'd leave. But even as he said the words, Harry knew it was a complete lie.  Sirius was looking at Ron very carefully and some kind of understanding passed between Ron and Sirius.

"There's nothing I can do to stop him," Sirius said at last.  "We're wasting time."

"This is so stupid!" The fact that Ron was completely serious was making Harry panic. "You're just going to get killed. Is that what you want?"

"I've got the cloak. I'm not letting you go alone, Harry, so shut the hell up about it."

"I can't believe your letting him do this," Harry shot at Sirius as they turned the corner to the Entrance Hall. This was making his blood boil—why wouldn't either of them listen to him? "You're not doing it, Ron, get out there and—" He broke off and drew in a breath at the sight before him.

It was the Entrance Hall. But it wasn't the usual inviting place full of light and warmth.  It was cold and unsafe.  The danger seemed to settle over it like the layer of broken stone. There was hardly any light, only a few lone candles on the remaining walls, casting flickering shadow everywhere. The massive staircase had a huge crack down the middle and it was tilted at an odd angle; the bottom steps were only a pile of rubble, and looking as if they were about to crumble at any moment. Harry stared at it, his eyes sweeping to the bottom… and he gasped at the dark figure, half covered in stone.  His eyes flew to the person's face and saw with utter disbelief that it belonged to Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Ron's entire body went stiff.  

"Did you see Hermione?" Harry whispered to Ron, before he thought about what he was saying. 

"No," Ron said dully, staring at Justin.

"Get outside, Ron," Harry said weakly. "Make sure she's okay. And Ginny.  They need you." 

Ron turned to Harry, then. His blue eyes were bright and his face was set. "You need me."

Staring back at him, Harry felt relief flood slowly through his veins.  Suddenly couldn't think about what the sacrifice was going to be—all he knew was that Ron was right—and there was no one else Harry wanted by his side. 

"Let's go," Sirius said again.  

Harry tried desperately not to look at the few other students that were sprawled across the floor as they stepped over the destruction and continued on. They reached the dungeons, which were empty and untouched, but somehow seemed more dangerous somehow.

Lupin came into his mind and Harry felt, for the first time since Hagrid's death, his eyes burn with misery.

They reached the room from Ginny's dreams and stepped inside.  At once, Dumbledore appeared out of thin air, his blue eyes already radiating with power.  They slid to Ron.

"Mr. Weasley," he said and Ron lifted his chin to meet the headmaster's gaze. Dumbledore nodded and turned to Harry. "I expected no less. There will be a long tunnel and at the end of it, a room.  Voldemort will be stationed in this room, with his own protection. Let us go now. Harry, you'll need to open the stone."

His breath in his throat, Harry bent down, touched his wand to the round stone and said, 

_"Alohomora!"  _

His scar exploded in pain.  He grabbed his head, leaning back, and hearing a huge rumbling sound. Many hands pulled him to his feet.  Lupin's voice echoed in his mind.

_"Focus, Harry."_

So he did.  He struggled to open his eyes and with all his might, he focused.  The stone was opening—it was getting bigger and bigger and the walls were beginning to rattle.  The room was going to collapse.  

"Inside!" Dumbledore said over the noise. "Now!"

They slid down, all four of them, into the hole, which wasn't as deep as it looked.  Harry landed on his feet and put his foot out to keep his balance, raising his wand.  He was dizzy, but kept quite steady as Ron landed firmly on his own feet beside him, gripping his own wand. The pain in Harry's head should have been crippling him, but it wasn't; he was able to open his eyes again and look at where they were.  

It was a murky tunnel and looked to be endless, completely dark, except for the little flames of green fire along the bottom edge of the walls.  There was dead silence.   

"Walk carefully," Dumbledore ordered.  "Use no magic."

The walking was good—it helped Harry concentrate on something other than his pain.  Ron had covered himself with the cloak again, but Harry knew he was walking beside him. They walked and walked. Harry thought about those long passages in the Ministry Defense Shelter and knew that this one was probably very much like them; he had a feeling the distance they were traveling meant nothing at all to time and space. 

For reasons he couldn't imagine, Harry's father came into his mind.  The vision of him was comforting, so he went over every single word he'd ever heard about James Potter, every photograph he owned, every story Sirius and Lupin had told him.  His mother's face materialized as he'd seen her in photographs: grinning, holding Harry in her arms, posing in her wedding gown, grabbing James' face in her hands and kissing him.  He'd always been rather embarrassed to look at that photograph… now he prayed that no harm came to it while it was up in his dormitory.  

The dormitory seemed far away.  The pain in his scar threatened him again and Harry brought more things into his mind… other photographs of his parents, stories of Sirius' that Harry remembered word for word.

_Help me, Dad._

Dumbledore stopped walking ahead and, after a moment, turned to them.  "The end of the tunnel is a short ways down," he whispered softly. "I can see it.  Sirius, Ron, stay behind Harry and me."__

As they walked, Harry began to hear something—voices.  The effect on his scar was brutal so he concentrated everything he could on breathing and walking.  Soon, he began to see shadows on the wall ahead and a small puddle of light streaming from the left.  Harry and Dumbledore approached, and then, very carefully, they turned.

There were two huge stone pillars arching high above them—the entrance to a huge circular room, which contained more columns and the quivering glow of green fire scattered around.  Harry stared in horror, his eyes watering with an unimaginable pain that was searing across his forehead.  

It was Draco Malfoy.  Black robed and breathing hard, he was slumped against a pillar in the middle of the room and looking up at something Harry couldn't see. But it was the look in his eyes that captured Harry's attention; they held an agony that went deep into the soul.

"Please," Draco choked in a dead voice that didn't sound anything like his own.  "Please."

Another voice answered him, an evil voice that Harry knew from his nightmares and it brought such an agony to his scar, that he bent over and pressed his head to the cold pillar, holding onto it for support.  

"Please…" the voice hissed tantalizingly. "Lucius… your son is begging for his life…"

The tall form of Lucius Malfoy stepped into view and turned to look at Draco. "Do what you will to him, My Lord."

At these words, Draco began to sob, great hideous gasps that racked his entire body.

"SHUT UP!" Lucius boomed. He grabbed Draco by the front of his robes and pulled him upright, slamming him against the pillar. "You brought this upon yourself," he spat at him.

Draco looked up at his father, his entire body shaking violently.  "Father…"

Lucius ignored him. "My Lord?"

Harry pressed his hand to his mouth to stifle his heavy breathing, but he was sure the pounding of his heart was echoing off the walls.  He looked all around the room and noticed with great perplexity high windows that stretched to the top of the high, dome-like ceiling. How could there be windows inside a dungeon?  He peered very closely at them and saw the very black sky sparkled with stars.  His eyes darted to the other window… he could see the lake way off to the distance… _below _them.  And then the other window, next to that one… it was dotted with trees and forest.  They were not below the school… they were on top of it.   

Another robed figure came to stand in front of Draco, the thin figure of the body that belonged to Lord Voldemort.  Harry almost screamed at the anguish in his scar; he bent all the way over before an invisible hand gripped his arm and pulled him up. Sirius, Dumbledore and Ron watched the scene as Harry leaned against Ron and listened to the words spoken by Lord Voldemort.  

"You know why I've brought you here, traitor. Muggle-loving fool… you're no different from any of them.  A coward! A hideous coward who would chose _this_ against the power Lord Voldemort could have given you.  Against my orders.  You failed the test, boy!  And now, you shall die like the Mudbloods you saved, common filth that you are, in the place that you would rather be loyal to than me."

Voldemort raised his wand; Draco flung himself on the floor, screaming in terror, but Voldemort just laughed as, in midair, a very long, curvy dagger materialized.  Voldemort brought his hand through the air and the dagger soared away to stop and float directly in front of Lucius Malfoy.  

"I give you my sword, Lucius. Kill your son."

Ron's hand tightened on Harry's arm.  

Lucius didn't hesitate.  He took the sword by the handle and walked to where Draco lay sobbing on the floor.  Draco's knees bent as his father dragged him to his feet and shoved him against a wall.

"You will stand tall when you die.  PUT YOUR HEAD UP!"

But Draco's head hung, defeated, his chin on his neck.

Harry's looked at Dumbledore as panic began to clog his throat.  Were they to just stand there and let this happen?  Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Harry and held his gaze, giving a slight nod—this was it.  

Lucius raised the dagger.  

"Now!" Dumbledore whispered.

But Harry was shoved aside suddenly and before he could register anything, Ron was racing across the room and flinging himself over Malfoy's body as the blade came crashing down.  It sank into Ron's back.

"_NO_!" Harry bellowed.  

Lucius let out a yell, completely stunned. Voldemort screamed and looked all around, yanking his wand arm in the air. But Harry could only think of Hermione… and the debt that Ron had just paid for her. His mind shut down before he could let it in … and he stepped forward and faced Voldemort, feeling a hatred born from his very soul. His scar throbbed horrendously and he aimed Harry wand high.

Voldemort's red eyes glowed even brighter when he saw Harry and very slowly, a smiled twisted his mouth.  

"Harry Potter… I knew you would come to me… you always do."  Voldemort raised his wand… 

…and faltered.

Even in Harry's poor state, he saw it.  Voldemort's eyes narrowed in confusion for a brief moment and then he raised his wand again.  But he cried out, a horrible, high sound that echoed off the walls. His bony face twisted to the side, wincing in some kind of pain.

Dumbledore's words came back to Harry.

_"When Voldemort tried to kill you as a baby, his powers became yours and when you helped to bring him to life three years ago, your powers became his… only his scar is unseen.  It lives inside of him… as it lives in you.  It will surface if and when he is close to you."  _

He was the cause of it.  Voldemort was faltering because of him… Harry had a sudden mental picture of the Boggart-Voldemort stumbling… and he held his wand tight, raising it higher.  He thought of killing him… saying the words that he'd been taught in his fifth year… just casting the spell…

_It won't work_, he said over and over.  _Wait for him to make the move, wait for him… it won't work, you can't kill him…_

"Master?" came Lucius' sharp voice. Harry could feel Lucius' eyes on him, and suddenly there was a loud clatter. Harry dared to flicker a glance at the floor and saw that the dagger had been pulled from Ron's back and thrown across the room.  Draco, shaking with fear, was pulling Ron out of the way.  

"My Lord, what will I do?" Lucius commanded.

Voldemort was now angry at this unexpected turn of events.  "Do not do anything, Lucius," he spat.  "I will kill him… _I will kill him…_!" He pointed his wand right at Harry's head.  "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

But Harry had been just as quick.  

"_BENE OMNIA VINCIT!_"  

The spells connected as they were supposed to; the sheer force of it shot Harry backwards against a pillar, but he kept the connection, kept his focus.  The entire room was now filled with bright golden light and Harry squinted against it, keeping his eyes trained to the thin beam that connected him to Voldemort.  In the back of his mind, he knew that Dumbledore or Snape had better join the connection before Harry and Voldemort become enclosed in the dome that would appear.  He began to mumble the chant, focusing his entire being on maintaining the connection and saying the words, his scar burning beyond belief. 

But Voldemort was also suffering.  His hand slipped several times and Harry had to fight to preserve the connection that wobbled.  Voldemort didn't know what to do and Harry could hear Lucius screaming for direction. 

No sooner than Harry began to raise his voice, than another joined him.  From Voldemort's look of fear, Harry knew who it was.  Dumbledore had stepped into the light and his firm voice began to recite the chant as he placed the tip of his wand onto the golden beam.  At once, a white light began to shine from Dumbledore… Harry looked down at his own arm and saw that he was glowing with it also… it shimmered inside his very skin… the protection…

            Harry felt it… the intense magic seeping through his blood… stronger and more potent than it had ever been in that room.  It gave him strength… and hope.  He straitened his back, held his wand higher. The pain in his scar began to diminish.  

_It's working,_ he thought wildly with a thrill of excitement.  _Ron will be fine… if this works, Ron will be fine… _

"Summon another!" Voldemort screamed to Lucius.   

"No need, my Lord. I am here."  Snape's voice called out. He stepped behind Voldemort, as did Lucius. Harry felt a sudden foreboding at the look on Snape's face.

"KILL THEM!" Voldemort screamed. "KILL THEM ALL!" 

Shoulder-to-shoulder, Snape and Lucius raised their wands … but before Lucius could say anything, Snape cut his wand down in a deep swoop and touched it to the beam, his eyes glinting with power.

"_TRAITOR_!" screeched Voldemort, stumbling yet again.  The beam wobbled and Harry gasped, holding firm, as a huge burst of energy raced through him the moment Snape's wand touched the thread.  

But before Snape could open his mouth to begin the chant, before the white glow began to radiate from him as well, Lucius' voice boomed.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!_"_

His mind screaming in denial, Harry felt the very magic inside him fade as the green light burst forth. Snape fell to the floor.

_"NO!" _Draco was sprinting to Snape and Lucius raised his wand, pointing it at Dumbledore. As Harry continued to chant, he prayed that his instinct was correct, that Dumbledore was still protected. He knew now that this was the beginning of the end; with Snape dead, all hope was lost. But Harry continued the chanting, keeping his concentration even as he felt his strength dying.

Lucius cast his curse on Dumbledore, shouting the words that had killed Snape. But before the jet of green light could touch Dumbledore, it stopped in midair… rebounded… and was hurled back the way it came.  The curse struck Lucius square in the chest.  

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco, bent over Snape and staring at his father's body numbly.  Harry was getting weaker… the protection was dying, his breath was coming in short gasps and he had to reach out with his other hand and press it against the pillar that was next to him.  Voldemort's eyes were glinting now with something like victory. It made Harry want to vomit… or give up.  He felt tears in his eyes as he heard his father's voice telling him not to lose faith…

_I can't do it_, Harry sobbed in his mind. _It's too hard…_  The pain in his scar was now making him dizzy.  He was going to pass out… he leaned against the column for support… Ron was dead… it was all over…  The last thing Harry saw was Voldemort's face, in a glow of light, radiating with power… before he turned a last glance out the window to the sky…

…And he saw Draco Malfoy, standing now in front of the window, staring at Harry. His eyes traveled to the beam of light, to Dumbledore, to Snape and back to Harry again.  They locked eyes.

And then, slowly, after what seemed like a lifetime, Draco turned.  He stepped over his father's body and bent down next to Snape.  He stood again, now with Snape's wand in his hand.  Draco stared down at it, breathing heavily, and his eyes raised to Harry's. They were burning with a dazed sort of fear.

Without warning at all, Draco lifted the wand and touched it to the beam.

The fog lifted from Harry's brain… … the glow of his skin was brighter than it had been before… and the pain in his scar vanished.

Voldemort was getting weaker… the connection wobbled like it never had and Harry had to fight to keep them both connected. 

"_Bene Omnia Vincit," _Dumbledore continued loudly, now raising his voice and staring back at Draco.  _"The power of goodness shall conquer all.  In the wake of evil's return, goodness shall prevail."  _ 

Harry felt a new kind of hope bursting inside him, and following Dumbledore's lead, he spoke louder as well.  Draco's eyes darted from Harry to Dumbledore and back again, confidence building in them.  And then Draco began to speak the chant—soon, they were all shouting it. 

Voldemort cried out in something that sounded like pain; he stumbled, physically, and Harry felt a great pressure when he tried to pull his wand away from the beam. But it was working now, the protection, the magic… it was glowing in Draco's skin as well and enclosing Voldemort in some kind barrier… he was trying to yank the connection away but to no avail.  

Voldemort's eyes widened with fear… Harry knew what he had to do.

_~Ginny~_

The night was cool. Ginny shivered and pulled her dressing robe tightly around her. Words couldn't describe the feelings in her heart as she stared up at the tower radiating with light.  A tower, which until now, nobody had ever laid eyes on.  It was as if it had simply materialized out of nowhere. A few people said that the tower appeared overnight… someone insisted they actually saw it appear through their dormitory window.  Ginny didn't care one way or the other.  All she knew was that her brother was up there… and so was Harry.

The entire school was out on the grounds, sitting inside an invisible Protection Enchantment the teachers had cast around them. If Ginny hadn't been completely terrified, she would have been rather impressed at the spell.  All the professors, except for Professor Figg and Dumbledore, of course, had stood in a circle, surrounding the students and shouted the Charm. Professor McGonagal said the circle could not be removed until evil was gone from the school.  

Ginny felt something move to her side and she turned to lay her head on Hermione's shoulder.  

"They're going to be okay," Ginny whispered to her, shifting her sore body and leaning against her friend.  She was still extremely weak from the effects of the _Venenum Sopor_. "They have to be okay…"  

Hermione nodded and squeezed her hand as they sat, huddled together on the damp grass, with the entire school.  Some people were whispering, some were crying, some were leaning on each other just as Hermione and Ginny were. However, every face in the entire crowd was turned upward, staring at the same spot… 

Ginny had been one of the first to arrive outside and she'd been lead by Madam Pomfrey to where all the professors were standing, only a short ways from the castle.  She'd watched as the entire school began to flood out the front doors, as the Gryffindors in her year came bounding towards her, as people called for their friends.  Everyone was terrified and trying desperately to push their way through the huge crowd that was assembling to get to each other. 

Ginny must have called Ron's name a hundred times, making herself hoarse, and when she'd seen Dean, Neville and Seamus running out, she'd almost cried with relief—Ron was sure to be close behind.  But he wasn't—and as the number of people rushing out reduced, Ginny had begun to feel sick. 

And then something had happened to make the entire school stand still.

Green light had begun pouring through every window of the castle and huge explosions could be seen from all over.  Ginny's eyes had been flying over every part of the castle, watching in a numb fear. The teachers had raised their wands towards the crowds, yelling incantations as a few lone students began to race from the castle doors at top speed.  Hermione had been one of them.  They'd arrived just in time to rush into the circle and Ginny had yelled Hermione's name for what seemed like hours before they finally pushed through and found each other.  When the teachers had finished the charm, enclosing themselves inside it as well, they'd assured everyone that no harm would come to them.

Ginny, Hermione and the rest of the school had watched in blatant shock as dozens of black-cloaked, hooded figures began to Aparate around them and charge at the castle.  Some ran towards them and tried to cast spells on the students and teachers. The protection had stopped the spells, confusing the Death Eaters, but making them more determined.  It had seemed to last for hours, but the protection circle was quite impenetrable.  

"The light is changing!"

People began to shout over the whispering crowd, but it wasn't the voices that had Ginny sitting up and grabbing Hermione's arm.  It was the tower.  The light was indeed changing; it was getting stronger, brighter if that was possible.  It cast white beams over the grounds and castle, and then, with a piercing noise that sent shivers down Ginny's back, there was an explosion—a flash of red light— before the tower began to crumble.

Ginny and Hermione watched as slowly, terrifyingly, the turret crumbled to the ground in a massive ball of white fire.  There was another flash of light, another explosion and for a split second, the entire castle became illuminated. And then it was all quiet… all dark.  

Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and  pulled her through the crowd until they were standing at the very edge of the barrier. The huge mound of stone came into view… it was smoldering with white fire and radiating with light. Ginny could practically feel everyone holding their breaths, and before her mind absorbed anything, the stones began to move. 

The entire crowd drew in gasps of breath, and Ginny pressed her hand to her throat when she saw arms appear, then a head and a torso climb heavily from beneath the wreckage.  Hermione let out a strangled cry when the person finally stumbled down the immense pile of dark stone and stood, facing the crowd.  It was Draco Malfoy.  

There were more gasps and sobs.  Hermione mumbled 'no' over and over again and pressed her face into Ginny's shoulder.  But Ginny didn't have time to feel anything… the stones were moving again.  

"Look!" she cried and squeezed Hermione's arm.  

Draco turned and lunged towards the movement, grabbing huge blocks of stone and throwing them out of the way with an almost inhuman strength.  People were staring to scream now.  

"It's Voldemort!"

"He's saving Voldemort!" 

"Keep calm!" Professor McGonagal ordered. "Mr. Malfoy," she screamed.  "Report to me now!" Her voice was shaking like mad. 

But Draco ignored her and continued his task.   

Ginny's grip tightened on her wand and she held it up with a shaking hand.  The fear was all consuming.

And then, it was as if the entire crowd gasped at the same time. Emerging from the pile of glowing rubble, was a glint of white hair.  

"Dumbledore?" Hermione cried. 

Draco helped the headmaster down; he was covered in dust and soot as well and he looked week and exhausted.  Dumbledore surveyed the terrified crowd before lifting his hand and placing it on Draco's shoulder.  They both turned and began to move more stones out of the way, throwing the huge gravel aside.    

And then, on the very other end of the mound, the rocks began to move on their own.  Hermione's nails dug into Ginny's arm as another body began to heave itself out.  Dumbledore and Draco started over immediately, but before they could do anything, the figure threw aside the last of the rocks covering him and emerged.

Hermione began to sob immediately and Ginny felt tears pouring down her face as Harry, covered from head to toe in dust hoisted himself clear out of the hole. There was a collective sigh of relief… some people burst into tears… others still held on to each other, as if waiting for something else.  

Harry didn't climb down.  At once he turned and began to throw rocks hurriedly and Draco followed suit.  They both leaned into the pile of rubble, pulling something out.  Ginny saw red hair beneath the dust and she screamed loudly.  

"_RON_!" 

Harry and Draco stumbled down the mountain of stone with Ron hanging limply between them… he was unconscious.

Ginny's arm was on fire where Hermione was squeezing.  

_He's okay… he's my brother… he's RON…_

Dumbledore rushed over as Harry and Draco reached the bottom and together they lowered Ron to the ground, face down. There was a scream from the crowd and Ginny's heart plummeted when she saw her brother's back soaked with blood.

Hermione made a noise in the back of her throat. 

Dumbledore pointed the tip of his wand to Ron's back and muttered something under his breath.  Then he looked up and spoke to Harry and Draco.  They all sat there, watching… until… Ron shifted.  Ginny drew in her breath and gripped Hermione's hand as Ron lifted his head and began pushing himself up.  

Ginny couldn't stand still — but she also couldn't run to her brother so she squirmed restlessly and watched Harry grip Ron by the arm and help him to his feet.  

There was a huge noise from the direction of the castle; Ginny jumped in fear and saw that the doors had been flung open and people were running out of the castle… the Aurors.  Ginny saw the familiar lithe form of Professor Figg among them before she turned back to Ron and Harry.  Harry was completely alert now, but his eyes seemed to be searching the crowd of Aurors that surrounded Dumbledore. It was right then that he found what he was looking for when Sirius pushed through the crowd rather forcefully, and hugged Harry tightly. Ginny eyes filled with tears again watching Harry press his face into Sirius shoulder and hold onto him. 

A million questions were racing through her mind, but Ginny couldn't stop to focus on any of them.  She needed to know that Ron and Harry were okay… and safe… before she started worrying about everything.

Sirius, still holding onto Harry, grabbed Ron by the collar and pulled him into the embrace as well.  

After a short while, Ron pulled away from them and turned, his eyes scanning the crowd, until they stopped on Ginny and Hermione.  Ginny felt like she was going to sink to the floor in relief as Ron began to walk to them, quickening his pace as he neared.  And then he was standing right there, looking back and forth between them, pressing his hands against the invisible wall of the barrier.  

His eyes looked so tired—and a little hard. They burned into Ginny's.  

"It's over…" he whispered to her.  "It's over…"

Hermione choked on a sob and Ron turned to her. She reached up and pressed her hand against the barrier, flattening her palm against his.  

Ginny looked away, pressing a fist to her mouth and squeezing her eyes closed as Ron's words were repeated throughout the group.  

Over…could it be…?  Was it possible…? 

Ginny's hands were shaking when she cleared the tears from her eyes and then she looked up to find Harry again.  He was still standing a ways down, where Sirius and Professor Figg were talking quietly, but he was looking right at Ginny.  Her heart flipped over.  Even from a distance, she could see his eyes; they were so intense… so green.  She couldn't begin to imagine what they'd seen tonight, but somewhere in the depths of them, she could see what Ron's words meant… it was over.

Ginny reached out and touched the edge of the barrier. She wanted, _needed_, to touch Harry, to put her hand to his cheek, to lock her fingers with his.  He seemed so far away… so _alone _as his eyes flickered to where Ron and Hermione were. Ginny wished he would come to her… and she wondered if she would have the courage to comfort him if there wasn't a barrier between them. __

She didn't know if it was seconds or minutes later when she saw Sirius place a hand on Harry's shoulder, and call out for Ron.  With a last lingering look at Ginny, Harry turned and Ginny kept her eyes on him and Ron as they walked with Sirius through the front doors of the castle. 

To Be Concluded in the Epilogue… 

Coming Very Soon… ;) 

Review this fic!


	18. Epilogue

The Beginning of the End

**Epilogue**

A/N:  I had this epilogue planned from the very beginning of this fanfic. I never thought I would make it here, but alas!  Here I am. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this fic, be it by email, at our forums, at ff.net, at FictionAlly.  Your words of encouragement and praise have truly inspired me. I hope you enjoy the ending! 

_Three Weeks Later_

            The clattering noises of people eating along with the loud hum of chatter trickled from the Great Hall into Hogwarts' Entrance Hall where Harry was standing at the doorway, taking one last peek inside the room.  It was the same as when he'd made his retreat five minute ago — still packed to the brim with students, teachers, ghosts, and their respective families.  It was a celebration at Hogwarts tonight, and as Harry observed it from afar, he thought it looked as though the entire wizarding world was in the room.  His eyes landed on his own table, which sat all the Weasley's, Sirius and Hermione and her family.  They were still talking, now laughing at something Fred was saying.

            Harry wouldn't have been able to laugh at the joke had he still been sitting at the table.  It was part of the reason he'd disappeared with a quiet word to Ron and Hermione.  He didn't want them to wonder why he wasn't laughing.  He hated seeing his friends worry, but mostly he just couldn't take the pressure of it anymore. 

Harry had discovered over the past few weeks that freedom was a very tricky thing.

However, despite his lack of enthusiasm for the feast, and because Ron's words had been very convincing ("Look, mate, just think—tomorrow we'll be on the train out of here—no more Defense Against the Dark Arts, no more Transfiguration, no more bloody homework—_ever_!"), Harry had dressed himself in his dress robes and shut his mouth.  He'd eaten a very delicious dinner and had actually managed to hide the tension that was a permanent resident in the pit of his stomach.  He did a good job of it; at least Ginny had thought so.  During dinner, she'd smiled at him from across the table in a genuine sort of way—with no traces of pity at all. It had encouraged him.  

            On a sigh, he turned away from the Great Hall and pushed through the heavy doors into the warm summer night.  It was a beautiful night, Harry admitted to himself.  In fact, the weather over the passed few weeks had been glorious as if even it was finding reason to celebrate.

             Harry took the long way to his destination, around the forest and Hagrid's cabin, coming out on a clearing at the back of the castle and heading down the pathway.  At last, he reached the place and stepped onto the smooth grass of the Quidditch pitch.  It looked so different at night—he was used to seeing it on a bright sunny day, with the house colors blurred throughout the stands.  But he hadn't seen that in…well, years… how odd that the memories were still as fresh as yesterday.

            Harry didn't even hesitate—he mounted his Firebolt and took off.  The rush was the same as it always was… freedom… escape… the good kind.  He flew around and around, through the hoops, outside the boundaries, and then further away, over the castle, the lake, and back around.  He didn't know how long he flew… he didn't keep track of the time.    

How funny it was—when he was up in the air, the anxiety, the confusion, seemed so far away. His troubles always left him when he flew—even though he knew that when his feet touched ground, reality would hit and the carefree rush from flying would be almost foreign to him. 

Since that night, Harry didn't feel like dealing with the constant looks from people. The whispering, the pointing.  He was quite used to it of course, and knew it would always be a part of his life.  But he didn't have to like it—and he was allowed to go away from it. 

Nobody knew the entire story.  The morning after the attack Dumbledore had announced to the school that Lord Voldemort had been defeated—that the spell cast by Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and the headmaster himself had vanquished any and all evil that had been present in the castle.  He'd made Harry, Ron and Draco stand at the head table, beside him and accept special awards for service to the school.  

Nothing more was said about that evening—and people were still curious.  Some wondered to themselves or in their groups of friends; those people were the ones who gave the looks in the corridors and then whispered to their friends in obvious ways.  Some had the gall to ask Harry strait to his face what had happened. Harry said nothing of course and Ron took every opportunity to tell off the people who were too brash with their questions.  Hermione had even tended rather curtly to a few random inquiries.  

The memory of that had him smirking… and then the picture of Ron during Voldemort's attack rose in his mind … refusing to leave Harry's side… risking his life to pay Hermione's debt.  Dumbledore had called Ron a true hero.  Foolish as it seemed, Harry couldn't help but want to burst with pride at that.  

Harry angled his broom to the right and flew to the castle, rising higher and stopping to peer inside the window of Gryffindor Tower.  He was very high up; he could see the gates to Hogsmeade. The reconstruction of the town would begin soon. Mr. Weasley had said that they should all feel privileged to be able to see it being rebuilt. Harry had to admit that he was sort of eager to witness the beginnings of that, even though he would always remember everything about the old shops.

Harry wanted to go back to the pitch so he took the long way again, but flying the course was far more enjoyable than walking.  Once he reached the stadium, he closed his eyes and pretended he was in the middle of a game—Gryffindor was winning, of course, but it was all up to him.  He saw the snitch fluttering over one of the goal posts and took off towards it; he arrived in mere seconds and reached out into the air. Harry held up the invisible snitch and flew in a wide circle; he could almost hear the cheers.  It was such a bittersweet feeling knowing he would never play here again… never see the crimson crowds rushing onto the field after a victory, or hear Hagrid bellowing, "GO HARRY!" from the stands. He looked over to the Gryffindor stands—and saw something to make a warm feeling flutter through him.

Ginny smiled at him. She was sitting in the very first row with her elbow perched on the ledge and chin propped in her hand.  "Hey." 

"Hey," he said, flying closer. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," she said, but she lifted her head.  "I hope I'm not, I mean, do you want to be alone or—"

"No, no," he said quickly. "Stay." 

Ginny smiled again and Harry noticed how her eyes crinkled when she did. After a few seconds of silence, she leaned over the edge and peered at the ground.  "I never realized how high up these things really are.  Funny thing to notice now, after all the times I've sat here."

"Who did you used to sit with when there was a game?" Harry asked.  "I can't remember sitting with you when Gryffindor wasn't playing."

Ginny shrugged.  "Mostly Sarah and the other girls. Hermione always made me too nervous, and I never cared much for Ron during Quidditch season."

Harry laughed a little and it occurred to him quite suddenly how pretty she looked.  It wasn't the first time he'd thought that tonight, but it was the first time he found himself blurting it out.  

She went pink and looked away, only to look back at him a second later.  "Thanks."

He flew a bit closer, so that he could lean against the ledge as she was.  "Are those… new robes? I don't remember ever seeing them before…" Harry felt his own face grow a bit hot and then he panicked—what if they weren't new robes—what if he'd seen them dozens of times only he'd never noticed before?  

"Yes, they're new. George got them for me, believe it or not."

Harry looked surprised.  "George?"

"Yes, see, over the summer, when we went to Diagon Ally for our school materials, I stopped in Madam Malkin's—well, it's a long story really, but to make it short—"

"Don't make it short. Wait."  He flew into the stands and dismounted, taking a seat right next to her, setting his broom down.  "You stopped in Madam Malkin's," he prompted.

Ginny was a bit taken aback, but she smiled and continued.  "I stopped in Madam Malkin's and well," she looked rather sheepish all of a sudden.  "I usually don't do this sort of thing, except I had some time before I had to meet you and Ron and Hermione, so I tried on these robes. Anyway, one of the designers really liked the way they looked on me. Sally Hunter."

Harry's mouth dropped open.  "George's new girlfriend?"

Ginny smiled and nodded. "Yep. Only she's not his "new" girlfriend… they were together back then, but they kept it a secret for some reason. Fred told me George would disappear from the store for hours at a time and he finally figured out that George would go to see her. Anyway, back to the point—when Sally heard I was… sick, she showed George the robes and I guess he was feeling generous."

Harry nodded; he'd cast his eyes to the side, unable to look her in the eye at the mention of her being sick.  

"They're really nice."

"Thanks," she said, watching him.

Harry tried to shake the vision of her in the hospital, unconscious and not waking up… he tried to force himself to remember that it was over now… it was over.

He saw that Ginny was looking at him with one of those looks that seemed to read his thoughts. 

"What are you thinking, Harry?"

He smiled despite himself.  "Funny… I thought you would know."

She looked at him curiously.  "What makes you say that?"

"Well… you always get this look when you're about to give me advice or… tell me that you know how I feel…"

She narrowed her eyes in thought.  "Do I? How is the look?"

"You - want me to imitate the look?" 

Ginny nodded, so he sobered and leaned forward, looking at her very seriously.  Ginny's mouth tilted up at the corners and before Harry knew it he was grinning. Ginny broke the gaze, giggling, and Harry shook his head on a laugh.

"That looked nothing like me," she declared.

Harry lifted his brows.  "How do you know how you look?"

"I know.  I've looked at myself in the mirror before."

"Yes, but never when you're giving me advice."

She grinned and turned to the pitch again.  Harry watched her in silence, something so comfortable about the way he was able to sit with her.  His stomach was in knots—but that didn't have anything to do with his tension over the end of the war. And even though there was a hint of unease in the air, Harry knew that it wouldn't be there forever. He let his eyes travel from the smooth grass fields to the goal posts, banners, all the way up to the sky and the stars. He realized that he wasn't fearful about the future. Then he looked at Ginny, sitting quietly and gazing out at the castle. 

He inched closer to her and bent over the edge. "What's so interesting out there?" 

She turned to look at him; their heads were very close. Harry had a mad sort of urge to reach out and touch her cheek where her freckles were.  

Ginny smiled, her eyes looking suddenly timid. Harry was rather startled at that—she hadn't been shy around him in ages. 

"Nothing," she said in a soft voice, looking at the sky again. "I'm just thinking."

" 'Bout what?" he asked, leaning his shoulder against hers.

"About… what we're going to do this summer."

"What's that?"

"I dunno… nothing?" she suggested.

"You know," he said, thinking about it.  " 'Nothing' sounds really nice. Play Quidditch."

"Sleep till noon," Ginny said in a dreamy voice. 

"Sleep…! What's that?"

Ginny laughed softly.  "You'll get reacquainted once we get home."

"Home…" Harry said, thinking of the Burrow… and oddly enough Privet Drive.

"Yes… home.  Mum will cook us lunch… and then we'll decide if we want to go into London or if we want to stay round the house.  That is, you and Ron will decide if you want to play Quidditch or not."

"And? What will we do in London?"

"Well, you and Ron will probably spend hours looking at the new brooms, but Hermione and I can occupy our time with something else while you do that—"

"Try on dress robes?" 

"Something like that. And we can get ice cream like last summer and… do nothing…" 

Harry heaved a sigh.  It was sounding very nice to him. "Sirius is getting a house."

Ginny looked at him again and their faces seemed even closer.  Harry could smell her hair.  

"Really?" she asked, smiling into his eyes.

He nodded, a foolish smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "We're going to start looking for one soon. We'll finally get to, you know, be a family."

"I'm happy for you."

"So am I."  Even as he admitted it, there was that jolt of panic at the thought of leaving Hogwarts. 

"It's over, Harry," Ginny was whispering. 

She really could read his thoughts. "I know… everything is over…" 

"I know it may not be a good thing right now… but it will be.  You'll see…"

"I just—" he broke off on a sigh. "It's all ending so fast."

"Some things have to end," Ginny said quietly. "They make room for new things."

Harry looked at her.  "New things…"

She nodded, her eyes very quiet on his. They seemed to know everything he was thinking… feeling.  There was something inside him that was so scared to take the next step with her, but another part of him, the part that knew the fear would fade away, knew that it was right for him.

Harry kept his eyes on hers and leaned forward slowly, closing the small space between them. He stopped when his face was only a fraction from hers and looked into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. This was right… he could feel how right it was…  He bent his head closer still … heard her sigh when his nose nuzzled hers… felt her eyelashes flutter against his cheek as her eyes slid closed… He could smell her fresh scent, felt her fingertips touch his jaw lightly, leaving his skin tingling. Harry brought his hands up to cup her face and her eyes opened to look into his once more… then both their eyes slid closed as he kissed her, gently at first, then with a strength born from the ache spreading inside him.  He found it so simple… but so earth-shattering at the same time.

Ginny sighed when he pulled back and when she opened her brilliant brown eyes; his insides seemed to hollow out.  He could see the depth of her feelings there and it floored him how deep they went… especially since he could see exactly the way he was feeling right at that moment.

She made a little noise and Harry didn't know if it was a sigh or a laugh—maybe it was both because he thought he saw a ghost of a smile on her face. It took a while to find his voice and when he did, he spoke hoarsely. 

"Something funny…?"

A glint came into her eyes.  "No…" she breathed and let her head fall on his shoulder.  Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke in barely a whisper.  "I was just… thinking."

" 'Bout what?" he whispered back, leaning forward to smell her hair again. 

"Summer," came the muffled reply against his shoulder.

"Mmm…" He felt a smile pull at his mouth. "Think of anything more we can do, then?"

She lifted her head to look at him and her eyes were full of mischief.  "I'm sure we can come up with something… Actually, I was thinking about last summer…"

"What about it?"

"Well, I was just thinking… how different it will be… if you come to stay."

"I've already thought of that, actually." His voice was tinged with humor.

"You have?"

"Yes. I predict that it will be very…" he trailed off, trying to think of the right word.

"Different," she supplied.  

"Yeah…"  

She smiled and a little blush touched her cheeks.  "Good different."

"Very good different," he muttered and then leaned forward to nip at her mouth.  Harry thought of something then.  "I've never thanked you, Ginny."

"For what?" she asked, looking up at him.  She looked so adorable… her eyes a bit stormy from the kiss, her brow furrowed in confusion at his statement.  

He cleared his scratchy throat.  "For everything you've done for me this year."

She swallowed and started to speak, but he cut her off. "You were there… and it meant a lot… more than a lot, it was—"

"Harry. I know."

He looked at her… and nodded.

"Everyone's probably wondering where we've got to."

"Let them wonder," he said without thinking.

Ginny laughed and sighed when he bent his head closer.  "They'll be worried."

"So…?" he muttered, not wanting this to end.  He was nuzzling her neck, breathing in her scent… and didn't know if he would ever have the nerve to do it again. 

"Come on," she whispered, giggling a little and pulling him to his feet with her.  "We have all summer."

Heaving a sigh, Harry gathered his Firebolt and followed her down the steps of the stands.  "All summer. I s'pose we do."

Ginny held his hand as they walked, but when they got to the edge of the pitch, Harry stopped. 

"Wait.  I'm… I'll be right up, okay?"

Ginny looked at him.  "Okay," she said simply and started to walk away, but Harry found himself tugging on her hand and pulling her close to him again.

After Ginny left Harry just stood there, his eyes roaming over the castle, the pitch, the greenhouses, Hagrid's Hut.  This place had been new once… and it had been the best thing to happen to him.  Perhaps even better things were waiting out there.  His eyes fell on Gryffindor Tower… where Ginny was headed and Ron and Hermione probably were… and suddenly Harry couldn't wait to get up there.  He found himself smiling as he walked back to the castle with thoughts of Ginny's summer plans.

As he climbed the steps to the castle, the doors opened and Harry stopped when someone emerged… Draco Malfoy.  For a moment, the two boys simply stood there looking at one another.  Then Draco nodded slowly and stepped aside, holding the door.  Harry nodded as well and walked through without a word.  Inside, Harry took a deep breath and turned back to the doors, thinking suddenly how different things might have been.  The thought saddened him…and made him feel incredibly fortunate.  

Then, Harry turned at the sound of his name to see Nearly Headless Nick was floating at the entrance to the Great Hall and smiling broadly at Harry. Behind him, Harry could still hear the murmurs of talking and rattle of silverware as everyone finished dessert.

Nick straitened his ruffle.  "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were looking for you.  I suspect they've gone to Gryffindor Tower by now."

"Thanks, Nick," Harry said, lifting his hand and turning towards the stairs.  Feeling very content all of a sudden, he took the steps two at a time, and made his way up to Gryffindor where his friends—his family— were waiting for him.

**FIN**

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